Midnight's Curse
by Jensen Jones
Summary: Angel calls Buffy and Giles to his LA office because he is worried about Spike becoming weaker day by day. Can they convince Spike to let them help him before it's too late?
1. Initial Impressions

"I'm glad you came so soon, I know you're busy," Angel told Buffy and Giles as they sat down in his office lounge at Wolfram and Hart. He was glad to see them. It was getting lonely running the firm without a close team to work with anymore. "How was your flight from England?"

"Uneventful." Buffy shrugged. "So let's talk about what we came here to talk about. How's Spike?"

Angel shook his head. "I don't know. I've tried to talk to him, but he brushes me off. I didn't what to push the issue. Last thing we want is for him to take off somewhere. Thought I'd wait until you and Giles got here."

"But you told him we were coming?" Giles inquired.

There was a knock at the door. "Come in!" Angel called.

Spike entered Angel's office. "You wanted to see me boss? I've got the bloody contracts signed…" He stopped dead, and let the paperwork fall to the floor at the sight of Buffy and Giles seated in Angel's comfy leather chairs.

Buffy and Giles took in Spike's appearance. He was dressed in his usual attire, but looked paler than normal, and his left arm was strapped in a sling, under his coat.

"What's this?" Spike asked.

"Hey, Spike," Buffy smiled. She'd known he was alive for a long time now, but this was the first time she's seen him in the flesh since the destruction of Sunnydale. They had both moved on with their lives since that time. Buffy tried to keep it casual. "Believe it or not, we were just talking about you."

"Yeah? About all my heroic exploits and demon slayings, I hope."

"Something like that." Buffy replied with a sideways glance at Angel.

"So it's bad right? The two of you wouldn't be here otherwise." Spike sat himself down on the chair between Buffy and Giles. Angel shut the door and stopped to pick up the files Spike had left on the floor, placing them carefully on his desk before coming over.

Giles and Buffy glanced at each other and Giles spoke. "It's potentially… bad. We need more information and we'll need to conduct some tests to be certain of anything. We will require your cooperation, Spike."

"You got it," Spike swore. "Conduct tests on what?"

Buffy sighed. "You didn't tell him why we're here, did you?" she looked at Angel accusingly.

"Well, fill me in," Spike urged, "What's this big bad we're fighting and how can I help?"

Buffy turned back to Spike and her voice softened. "Spike, we're not fighting. And there's no big bad, at least I hope not. We're here to try and help you. Angel's really worried about you."

Spike laughed. "Is he now?" He placed a cigarette in his mouth while he fumbled for his lighter, with his good arm. "I think you'll find," he mumbled, then having found his lighter, removed the cigarette to finish speaking, "it's Angel's fancy way of bragging: 'oh, look how Spike pales in comparison to me, the most powerful vampire with a soul. Oh, I'm worried about Spike. He hasn't killed _quite_ as many demons as I have recently. Let's all investigate how much of a stronger vampire I am than Spike, shall we?' Worried? Please!" Spike stopped and lit his cigarette.

"Hey!" Angel objected. "Put that out."

"Give me a break Angel!" Spike said angrily. "I don't care about your office rules. I'm undead, it's hardly gonna give me lung cancer."

"Maybe not, but it's not polite in front of Buffy and Giles." They stared at him strangely. "Fine," Angel admitted. "I just don't like you playing with fire, the state you're in," Angel sounded his concern.

"You could at least try asking nicely," Spike defended his overreaction.

"Please, stop smoking," Angel told him.

"Sod off! I do what I want!"

At that Angel reached over and grabbed Spike's cigarette. "Could I have a word with you Spike?" The question was clearly rhetorical as Angel took hold of the collar of Spike's jacket. Spike reluctantly followed Angel to his desk, where Buffy and Giles could hear their voices rising and falling and the occasional expletive from Spike.

"Awkward, much?" Buffy said to Giles.

"Yes, rather," Giles responded. "I thought he knew. How are you doing Buffy? After all this is the first time you've seen Spike since…"

"I'm fine. Besides, it's not about me. It's about Spike. What do think? He looks a little pale, but Angel made it sound a lot worse on the phone," Buffy whispered.

"Appearances can be deceiving. Now that we're here, we should investigate thoroughly regardless."

"Agreed."

Finally Angel and Spike came and sat down again. Angel, his hand still on Spike's collar, made Spike sit next to him on the double sofa, opposite Buffy and Giles.

"Well," Spike began, "Now that I know Angel's been blabbing about me on the phone it would be foolish of me to act like I had any semblance of privacy or dignity to preserve. So I won't." He looked up. "You want to hear how I've been? I'll tell you everything. Every pathetic detail, if that's what you came all this way for. Where do you want to start?"

"Thank you Spike," Giles answered. "That would be most helpful. Angel told us your physical strength has been declining for the last month. Do you have any ideas what instigated this?"

Spike turned and glared at Angel, beside him. "A month? You only noticed a month ago?"

"How long, Spike?" Giles asked.

"Four months," Spike corrected. "Maybe longer," he looked away, concentrating on avoiding anyone's gaze, particularly Buffy's.

"And do you have any idea as to the cause?"

"Well, busting my arm didn't help any." Spike nodded his head at his bandaged arm in the sling.

"And this happened how long ago?" Buffy inquired.

"About a month," Angel guessed.

"Five weeks," Spike corrected.

"And it's not healed? What happened?" Buffy asked with concern.

Angel answered when Spike was not forthcoming. "It happened during a fight with a Tava demon. He grabbed Spike's arm. Dug his claws in. Twisted." Spike flinched at Angel's words.

"Well that's not a mystical wound by any means," Giles pointed out. "I think we can safely rule out your theory Angel, that the Tava demon is the cause of Spike's condition, especially as Spike has informed us that it started months before that event."

"My condition?" Spike was indignant.

"Spike it's hardly normal for a vampire to be losing his strength in this way for no good reason. You're going on 130 now. Vampires typically become stronger with age, not the reverse."

"The ones that survive do," Spike pointed out.

"Still, I would expect your vampiric powers to be on the increase. This is anomalous."

"What's your theory then? How do I defy all odds to become the pathetic loser that you see before you?" Spike asked.

Giles glanced at Buffy. "There are several possibilities. One of which is… Buffy and I have encountered evidence of a condition sometimes referred to as 'Midnight's Curse.'"

Spike scoffed. "That's a medieval fairytale. Like the Black Death. It's not real."

"Spike, the black death is real," Buffy informed him.

"It is? I didn't know that. But this 'midnight's curse' is bollocks. Manuscripts tell of vampires voluntarily walking into daylight and turning into corpses and such nonsense. I'm not about to walk out into the sun. I'm not suicidal! Besides, if anything, light seems brighter than it used to, even the computer screen hurts my eyes. Been thinking of getting some of them specs, like you Giles, if it gets any worse. Angel has me on office duties, since I'm useless in a fight, and I can't concentrate on the screen…"

"Interesting," Giles noted. "You say the light seems brighter? What else has changed? We must gather as much information as we can."

Spike thought for a moment. "It's like, I don't get that rush anymore. You know, when you really hit something, or you _get_ hit good and proper." Buffy seemed to know what he was talking about. "Violence. I just don't get it like I used to… Makes me bloody useless in a fight. I don't get so revved up somehow, I just get… "

"You're weak, Spike," Angel said. "It stands to reason that you…"

"Hey, I'm trying to explain something here and you are just insulting me!"

"I'm saying it's understandable, that's all."

"Understandable? It's downright infuriating, that's what it is!"

"Alright, let's move on," Giles suggested. "Spike how are you feeding?"

"What do you mean?"

"Human or animal blood?"

"Animal, of course."

Giles made a note. "And how often?"

"Well, I used to be a regular little soldier. Had my cup of blood every morning and night. Like clockwork."

"But now?"

"I try… every other day."

"Spike," Angel was incredulous. "No wonder you're weak. I can get you human blood, if you don't like the taste…"

"It's not the taste," Spike admitted. "It's… I can't keep it down, is the thing."

"Spike, you can't survive without blood," Angel was emphatic.

"I know. Which is why," Spike awkwardly pulled up the sleeve on his good arm by pushing it against his side to reveal his track-marked wrist.

"You're injecting?" Angel was shocked. "Since when?"

"Just when I have to. Not as if I do it for fun. If I haven't been able to feed for a couple days, then I do this instead. Perks me up a bit. Of course I busted my arm and it's been a tad tricky."

"Well, you should get medical to do that, Spike. You should go to medical. In fact I'm calling them now," Angel broke from the conversation. He got up and went over to his desk to make the call.

Giles scribbled more notes in his book. Spike lit up another cigarette in an effort to continue avoiding eye contact with Buffy. After a few long draws on his cigarette he spoke, without looking up, "So what are you doing here, Buffy? Last thing I want is for you to see me like this."

"I'm sorry I'm making this hard for you. It's just business Spike," Buffy told him. "Oh, and later, shopping."

"Shopping?"

"For the wedding."

"Wedding?"

Angel came over. "They're expecting Spike at the medical science division. Giles you go with him. Do your tests, your research. Get some answers. I need to get these contracts in the mail."

"What's Buffy doing?" asked Spike.

"Shopping."

"Oh, right."

"We can regroup after that," Angel told them.

Giles nodded. "You can show me the way, Spike."

"Fine." Spike obligingly pulled himself to his feet and they headed for the door.

"Spike," Buffy called. "Is there anything else you haven't told us? Anything you can think of that might help us figure this out? Get you back to your delightfully violent demonic self?" Buffy asked.

"Don't think so, Slayer," Spike turned to face her and finally looked at Buffy straight on. "Other than the obvious, of course."

"Which is?"

"I can't vamp."

"What do you mean?"

"Angel told you, right? I can't vamp anymore. Show my vampire face? Not for want of trying, mind you. Last time I changed was over two months ago. Remember that fight Angel? Got punched in the head five times before I managed to vamp. Lasted all of two seconds. I mean that's what we've been talking about this whole time, right? My vampire powers are fading. The demon half of me is dying, leaving just this pathetic walking talking human corpse. Angel's scared he'll catch it next. And you lot probably want to spread it around. Make slaying a hell of a lot easier. Like a biological weapon against vampires. And me? You're not worried about me. The only thing you're worried about is that I'll turn to dust before you've had time to find your answers. Don't look so shocked Buffy. For the good of human-kind, just like last time, right?"


	2. Examination

"About what Spike said, you don't have to worry," Buffy reassured Angel. "If it is Midnight's Curse, it's not contagious."

"I'm glad. Well, for my sake I'm glad. But, that doesn't help Spike."

"We'll figure it out, Angel. Spike's not going anywhere. Neither am I. Well, not for the next two days."

"I'm grateful you could spare two days."

"I can't, really," Buffy frowned. "Duty calls. Bridal shower planning."

Angel nodded. "Don't envy you there."

"There was a time I used to dream of spending my time shopping for dresses and planning party invites and all that but…"

"Grass is always greener, I guess."

"I need some serious coffee before I start."

"I know a place, if you want company?"

"I'd love company," Buffy smiled.

Giles hurried through the corridors of Wolfram and Hart, following Spike. Other staff were quick to step aside for the vampire, but less accommodating for Giles, who was trying not to get in anyone's way.

"Angel's an idiot," Spike said when Giles caught up. "He should've told me you were coming."

"I'm sorry Spike. I wasn't aware he hadn't talked to you about this."

"Don't get me wrong Giles, I'd love for you to fix me, but I've done my share of light reading over the past months and I don't have a good feeling about this."

"You're researching this?" Giles asked.

"I was. I stopped."

"Why? Did you find out something?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Or maybe, I don't want to know." Spike stepped out of the way of other staff and turned down another corridor. "Not everything can be fixed, Giles. You know that. And some things need to be taken all the way apart, piece by piece, just to figure out exactly how they're broken beyond repair."

"Spike, your history has shown you to be extremely resilient. There is every chance that whatever this is, it is completely reversible. I wouldn't close the books just yet."

"Which is why I'm going along with you and your books. For now. I just want to have a say before they start taking me apart, is that too much to ask?"

"I wouldn't do anything without your informed consent, Spike, you have my word."

"It's not you I'm worried about. Signing up to work at this joint never ends well. Well, here we are. Wolfram and Hart medical science division."

Spike was about to lean over the reception desk when a man approached them.

"Mr Spike, Mr Giles. I'm expecting you. I have a room free this way. I've been instructed by Mr Angel to let you use any of our equipment or supplies, anything you need in your investigation Mr Giles."

"That's very helpful…"

"Doctor Evans," they shook hands. "Let me know if I can be of any kind of service or assistance."

They entered the examination room. On a metal tray sat a crystal decanter of red liquid and one crystal tumbler. "For you, Mr Spike," Dr Evans said. "Mr Angel asked me to prepare it. Human B negative. Body temperature." Spike just stood there. "Is that satisfactory?" the Doctor asked.

"Yes, thank you doctor," Giles told him. "Spike?"

Spike hesitantly walked over, turned the tumbler right way up and carefully poured a glass of the human blood.

"Well?" Giles asked.

"Are you just going to watch?"

"Yes, Spike. That's the idea. I'm observing."

Spike gave in. He took a sip.

"How does it taste?"

"It tastes like blood." Spike stated with annoyance. "Like…" A grin spread across Spike's face and he sniggered. "It tastes like fresh… young… girl." At that point his eyes flicked with a demon light and his teeth became slightly pointed. "It has been a while. So long I forgot what I was missing! Human blood. Maybe that's all I need. Why didn't I think of that?" Spike lifted the tumbler and after draining the glass, changed to his full vampire face. "That was easy… oh shit…" Spike's vampire face disappeared without a trace. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Worth a try, I guess."

"Well at least you managed to keep it…" Giles began, but he had spoken too soon.

Spike gagged and put his good hand over his mouth. He glared at Giles, then sank to his knees and retched again, blood spurting from between his fingers and spattering across the floor. Spike grabbed the tumbler and managed to throw up the rest of the blood mostly into the tumbler. Once he stopped retching he leaned his forehead on his wrist, still gasping and staring at the floor.

"Could you clean this place up?" Giles instructed Dr Evans, taking out his handkerchief to clean a small spot of blood from his glasses. "And, er… prepare a blood transfusion instead."

"Same blood type?" the doctor asked.

"Interesting question," Giles remarked. "Spike, what blood type are you?"

"I'm a vampire. It doesn't matter!" Spike, said without looking up.

"Not under normal circumstances, but maybe we ought to take precautions."

"It'll be on file. I'll see to it," Dr Evans said leaving the room.

"So, Rupert," Spike, a bloody mess, looked up finally. "What's next on your checklist?"

"I think it's high time we had a look at this arm of yours, don't you?"

Spike smirked ruefully, shaking his head. "Well, isn't this shaping up to be a regular fun filled day at the office."


	3. Inflammable

Spike and Giles took the lift back up to Angel's office. Spike was uncharacteristically quiet as he cradled his injured arm. Giles stepped out ahead of him and pulled up a chair. "Take a seat, Spike."

Spike sat down and looked around. "Where's Angel got to then? I thought he was working."

"Buffy and Angel are on their way," Giles told him, checking his phone. "Can I get you anything?"

"Like what?"

"I'm not sure. A glass of water? A cushion maybe?"

Spike shook his head.

Giles sat down. "It's not true you know, what you said earlier."

"What did I say?"

"That no one's worried about you. Of course Angel's beside himself. It was hard to get a straight story out of him over the phone, which is in part why we came here immediately. And Buffy, she doesn't mean to be insensitive. I think she tries not to show her concern because she doesn't feel ready to face the possibility of losing you - again. I wish things were different for you Spike."

"I know," Spike admitted. "I know you all want to help me. I'll not used to that. I'm used to people worrying about who I'm going to hurt next. Worrying I'll kill their friends or family, worried what will happen if I win the next fight. But worried for my sake? I'm not used to that."

Then they heard the sound of laughter as Buffy and Angel came in with coffee cups in hand. "Sorry, I hope you guys haven't been waiting long," Buffy sat down draping her jacket over her knees.

Angel became serious as he met Spike's gaze. He dropped into a chair. "Okay Giles, tell me everything. What do we have to do?"

Giles removed his glasses and began carefully. "Well, as Spike is unable to ingest blood he will need to have regular blood transfusions from now on."

"Sure. Blood transfusions. Until we fix this."

"Yes, well… actually, it's very interesting. Many of Spike's symptoms reflect the fact that his body is now reacting in a much more human way, as the demon part of him weakens its grip over its human form."

"What do you mean, reacting in a human way? Is Spike… becoming human?"

"Not exactly. What I mean is, for example, Spike's wounds are more prone to infection. This is in part why his arm - and his other injuries - have not healed. A course of broad spectrum antibiotics may address this."

"Other injuries?" Angel inquired of Spike, who said nothing. "You don't tell me anything, Spike." Angel stood up restlessly. "Okay, so, that's great Giles. But did you figure out what's causing this? How to fix it?"

"Dr Evans and I managed to devise a biochemical test for Midnight's Curse. Or rather, I should say, a test for specific antibodies from the ancestral line through which the curse is transmitted…"

"Leave out the specifics, Giles," Buffy told him impatiently. "So, you ran the test and?"

"It was positive."

"Which means what exactly?" Angel said blankly.

"It means Spike is affected with Midnight's Curse." Buffy explained solemnly.

"How? How'd he get it? How does any vampire get it?"

Buffy told the story, glancing from Angel to Spike, who was also listening silently from his chair. "A long time ago this guy cast an unbreakable spell so that if a vampire ever bites him, that vampire dies a slow and miserable death – Midnight's Curse. But the vampires in his town found out about it and he was never attacked again. He got married, had seven kids. And those kids had kids and so on. Turns out if a vampire bites any of his descendants, he gets the curse. And now those descendants, well they could be anywhere. Everywhere. Getting the curse, it's just down to unlucky chance."

Giles nodded. "While the curse remains unbreakable, over the generations, its effects seem to be diluting or lessening."

"That's good, right?" Angel was optimistic.

Giles continued. "When one of the second generation was bitten, that vampire died in 24 hours. Now, a vampire can be infected and not show symptoms for months or even years. As in Spike's case."

"So basically the slow miserable death is becoming slower and more miserable?" Spike drawled. "Delightful."

"At least it gives us time to figure out how to reverse this," Angel told him, pacing the floor.

"Did the words 'unbreakable spell' not get through your thick skull?" Spike asked. "It's done Angel. Done and dusted. Well, not dusted _just_ yet."

"Dusted? Wait. Isn't that part of the curse? That the vampires don't turn to dust? Or is that part a myth?"

"Actually, we have some evidence to support those stories," Giles admitted. "Of course as you know, a vampire is a hybrid of demon and human, each half reliant upon the other to survive. This curse seems to cause the demon half to gradually lose its grip on the human half. The vampire can be killed in all the usual ways, staking, decapitation, and so on. But after the demon is extinguished, the corpse is left behind."

"What about sunlight?" Angel wanted to know. "The stories about walking into the sun?"

"Accounts suggest that sunlight kills the demon but does not cause the body to go up in flames." Giles nodded.

"No flames? Now that's interesting. Let's test that, shall we?" Angel's eyes lit up.

"Angel…" Buffy cautioned.

"All this talk. It's just empty words. You expect me to take your word? I want to see this curse in action." Angel went to the large office window and slid it open a fraction so that a shaft of unfiltered sunlight beamed across the room.

"Hey," Spike shaded his eyes with his arm.

Angel rushed to where Spike sat and grabbed his shoulders. "Come on Spike, you don't believe all this nonsense do you? Let's show these fools how you burn just like any regular vampire with a soul." With that he pulled Spike to his feet and dragged him by the arm to the window.

"Ow, ow, ow! Watch it!"

"Isn't this your good arm?"

"My good arm that Giles has been jabbing with needles all morning, yeah,"

"Don't be such a wuss Spike." Angel yanked his arm out in front of the window and held it so that the band of bright sunlight fell across his hand.

Despite Spike's protests, Angel held firm. The seconds ticked by and Spike's hand showed no signs of bursting into flame.

"Stop! Stop! It's burning!" Spike continued to object loudly.

"Fascinating," Giles put his glasses on and came for a closer look. "Not a whiff of smoke!"

"That's not how it feels! Let me go!"

"Maybe the sun's just not bright enough today." Angel put his own hand into the band of sunlight. His flesh caught alight almost instantly. "Ahhh!" he yelled, letting a Spike fall to the floor. He slammed the window shut and extinguished his flaming hand under his coat.

"So it's true," Angel accepted finally, looking down to where Spike had sunk trembling to the floor, staring at his strangely unburnt hand. "Midnight's Curse is real." Angel flexed his blackened hand. "Damn it, how am I meant to get my paperwork done now?"

"Please, Angel," Spike mocked. "With your regeneration powers it'll be good as new before close of business. Meanwhile, my hand may look fine, but why am I left with a terrible feeling a piece of me has just burnt away forever in the fires of hell?"

"We need a plan," Angel insisted. "I'm not going to accept that we can't restore Spike."

"I will keep researching of course but in the end we may have to simply accept…"

"Lots of people live for years with all kinds of terminal diseases, Angel," Buffy pointed out. "Maybe Spike will…"

"Oh now you're comparing Spike to, what, a cancer patient? Spike doesn't want to live like that…"

"It's not my first choice," Spike said. "But what's the alternative? Step into the sunlight and get it over with?" Desk work's not so bad. Not while I can still make a decent threatening phone call. I can still fight evil over the phone lines."

"What happens if I throw Spike into the sunlight right now?" Angel suggested.

"Hey! You've never appreciated the hours I put in at the office…"

"He doesn't burst into flames? What's left?" Angel asked.

"A corpse," Giles told him.

"What kind of a corpse?"

"A dead one," Buffy stated the obvious.

"I mean like, a fresh corpse, or a stinking rotten carcass?"

"Kinda morbid, Angel," Buffy seemed offended.

"I imagine that would depend on whether the vampire is in good physical form. What are getting at Angel?" Giles asked.

"What do you call a fresh, fresh, corpse… with a soul?"

"A body… a dying body… " Giles played along.

"And as the soul leaves the body… I turn him," Angel turned and grabbed Spike. "What do you say, Spike? I appreciate you, I do. Consider it a raise. I'll make you strong again. So the demon inside you is dying? Let it! I'll make you a new vampire. You can start afresh. Just like old times, huh?"

"Is that even possible?" Spike asked.

"Angel, are you listening to yourself?" Buffy pulled him away from Spike. "We're not bringing back a soulless vampire, just because it looks like Spike! If Spike loses his soul, he's gone. The piece of flesh left after that is _not_ the bit we should be trying to save."

"I remember you quite fancied this bit of flesh not so many years ago, Slayer," Spike was offended.

"Angel," Giles's thoughts ticked over. "Your riddle: What do you call a fresh corpse with a soul? A dying body. Possibly a body able to be revived… and if revived _before_ the soul departs… With today's medical science it may be possible. If we had everything ready, life support and so on, if we could get the heart beating, then, then maybe…"

"Stop! All of you!" Spike got to his feet. "This is crazy. All three of you. Have you lost your minds?" Spike turned to look at each of them in turn. "Angel wants to replace one part of me with a shiny new part and unleash a demon killer in my form. Giles wants to kill the demon half of me and then experiment on the human half. And I'll be long dead before Buffy decides what bits of me she wants to keep and what bits she wants to burn, this time around. Is this what I am to you people? A used car ready for the scrap heap? Am I already gone and you're fighting over what I've left you in the will I don't have? Wait, these assets you want your hands on are not my possessions, they're parts of _me_. You want to tear me apart? Fair enough. But don't pretend it's because you care about me. I know I'm a vampire, by definition a demon with human form, plus I have a soul thrown in, whatever that means and whatever else I am besides. But you can't separate out the different parts and call any one of them me. You take me apart, you change what I am, you destroy me. Maybe you want that. I don't. I've had enough. I'm going home."

"Spike, we still need a plan," Angel stepped in front of him.

"Here's the plan, Angel. It's simple enough, even for you. You leave me to take care of me."

"Oh, like you have been?"

"A word of advice Angel, if you want to know something, you could try being straight with me. You think I haven't know about this, well suspected, until today? I'm not an idiot. I've looked into it."

"Great. Sounds like you've been real straight with me. Exactly when were you planning on telling us?" Angel asked.

Spike said nothing.

"When Spike?" Angel pushed.

"I wasn't." Spike dropped his voice. "I was planning on telling _you_ , Angel. Just you. Eventually. But as for… I don't see how it's anyone else's business." Spike gestured past Angel to Buffy and Giles. "But now they're here, if Giles wants to document my demise for science or whatever, he can ask. And if Buffy ever wants an honest word with me, I'll be listening, although I'm not holding my breath." He stepped into the doorway and looked back at them. "You can worry about me all you want, just don't put your hang-ups on me. Deal with it, people. I am." He turned to leave.

"Spike…" Angel's voice softened. "I'm sorry. I just… Please tell me you won't do anything stupid okay?"

Spike shrugged. "I'm just going home Angel, like I said. I'll be back in my office at the usual time this evening." Angel let Spike leave.


	4. Drunk

After Spike went home, Angel arranged for Buffy and Giles to do some further research on Midnight's Curse with access to Wolfram and Hart's Enchantment and Curses Department. Giles was impressed at the extensive library of manuscripts and Angel left them both to their work. He took a short fitful nap during lunch hour, then, finding his hand sufficiently healed, worked at his desk until evening. He looked at his watch: five past nine. Spike should be back in. Angel dialled his extension only to get a recorded message. Maybe Spike wasn't in yet. Angel tried to get back to work, but couldn't concentrate. "Damn it," he swore. He left his desk and headed down the hall.

Angel opened the door to Spike's office and entered without knocking. Spike was sitting at his desk, in the dark, smoking. Angel reached for the light switch.

"Don't," Spike warned him.

Angel walked over to Spike's desk. The only light that lit the room came from the windows: moonlight and the ever-present lights of LA. Angel noticed the phone was off the hook. There was an overflowing ashtray on the table and Spike was now tapping his cigarette into a pencil holder. Had he gone home at all? Or had he been sitting in his office this whole time? "Don't be onto me about the smoking again," Spike's voice was monotonous. "Not flammable anymore, remember?"

Angel knelt down in front of Spike and noticed that he looked as white as a ghost in the moonlight. There were dark shadows under his eyes and he reeked of smoke. "Did you sleep at _all_?" Angel asked him.

"Look Angel, if you've come to criticize every bloody thing I do, well I'm not exactly in the mood for it…"

Spike was taken by surprise as Angel, embraced him in a hug without saying a word. Spike awkwardly put his good arm, with cigarette in hand, around Angel. "Angel…" he began.

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything, Spike."

"But, Buffy…"

"Forget about Buffy."

"She's standing behind you."

Angel turned. "Buffy?"

"No, I'm sorry," Buffy apologised clumsily. "You guys are having a moment. I'll go. It's just, it's dark, I couldn't see…"

"What did you come for?" Spike asked her.

"I just… needed a break."

"From the shopping?"

"No, from Giles and his research. I don't know, thought I'd come find you."

"You came here to find Angel?"

"No Spike, I came to find _you_. Look, it doesn't matter. I'll go."

At that moment the fluorescent office lights flickered on. "Oh Christ!" Spike covered his eyes. "A bit of warning would be nice!"

"Sorry," Giles apologised, standing in the doorway. "Spike, you look terrible," he added as Spike lowered his hand from his eyes. It was true. Under the bright artificial lights it was clear to all that he was in worse shape than ever.

"And dare I ask, why you're here?" Spike asked.

"I came to speak with you, Spike. I have more information. We need to talk about the midnight's curse." Giles closed the door. "Buffy, Angel, you may as well stay too. You'll want to hear."

"Oh you mean right now? Sure, why not make it a social event?" Spike said sarcastically still cringing a little from the lights.

Giles came over and put his notebook on Spike's desk. "Yes, but first thing first, I think we need to get one of the doctors up here. Did the blood transfusion from this morning have no effect at all?"

Spike sighed and rolled his eyes. "Well, Dr Stupid clearly didn't know anything about vampires. You can't just hook me up to a drip like a living human."

"Oh?" Giles frowned. "I assumed Dr Evans knew what he was doing."

"It's not rocket science. Well, it's not any kind of science, that's the point. It's not about molecules, blood pressure and circulation. I'm a vampire. Blood is life and strength. It's simple really. Or it was," Spike sighed wearily. "And when it's not you've got to force it. I'll do it myself," Spike told him. "Been meaning to. Just need a syringe and a needle."

"I can get those," Angel jumped up from where he had been hovering by Spike's side.

"Top drawer, Angel," Spike instructed.

Angel opened the top drawer of Spike's desk and found a stash. He pulled out a needle and a large syringe and handed them to Spike.

"And I need some blood," Spike added. "In the fridge, down the hall."

"Right," Angel stood to go to the small kitchenette around the corner, but Buffy stepped forward. "You need blood," she said. "Use mine."

"What?" Angel asked.

"Come on Angel, we have to try this. Giles and I have already discussed it. Let me help. Slayer's blood is more powerful. You know that."

"But can't it be some other Slayer?" Spike objected. "They're a dime a dozen now I hear."

"Give me that," Buffy leaned over Spike's desk and held out her hand. He relented and handed her the syringe and needle in their sterile packets. "Okay, how do I do this?" Buffy made a face as she fumbled with them.

"Sit down," Giles instructed. "This will just take a few minutes." Buffy sat down on a chair while Giles fitted the sterilized needle to the syringe and slowly drew her blood.

Angel went back to Spike and sat on the corner of his desk, facing him, ready to start another awkward conversation.

"I'll just have a little nap then." Spike leaned his head on his desk partly just to avoid Angel.

"I can't believe you've been doing this for, what, months, and you didn't tell me," Angel spoke to Spike in a low voice.

"I was going to tell you, Angel," Spike insisted without raising his head. "Like I said."

"Yeah? When?"

"When I knew. Once I was sure…"

"Oh, like when it was too late?" Angel accused, raising his voice. "No time left for me to do anything but watch my best friend slowly fade…"

Spike sat up. "See this is why I didn't tell you. Cos I knew you'd get all melodramatic about it!"

"Is that what you're afraid of Spike? Not so much the dying, just that I might, what, show my feelings for you?"

"Alright, are you ready?" Giles walked around to Spike's side of the desk, carefully holding up the syringe now full of Buffy's blood.

"Give it here," Spike took the syringe in his good hand, avoiding Angel's gaze. "Er…" he paused, awkwardly transferring the syringe to his other hand, then back again, as he realised he had to remove his jacket and pull up his sleeve first.

"Let me help you, Spike." Angel offered. He took the syringe and gave it back to Giles, then helped Spike out of his leather jacket. Spike didn't move from his chair, but Angel was able to slip the jacket off his shoulders. Angel then gently rolled up the right sleeve of Spike's shirt revealing his pale forearm marked with unhealed needle marks and dark bruises. Spike caught the look of concern in Angel's eyes. He gritted his teeth. "Give me the damn syringe already."

Giles handed it back. Spike took it in with his right hand before transferring it into his left, wincing a little as he turned his damaged wrist so as to aim the needle properly. He stabbed it swiftly and deeply into his right arm, with a sharp intake of breath. Then he pushed down the plunger, forcing the volume of blood into his body. He jerked the needle out and discarded it on the desk, breathing heavily. His eyes fell on Buffy, standing on the other side of his desk, holding Giles' handkerchief to her arm, where he had drawn her blood. Buffy saw Spike's eyes flash with the demon fire and unexpectedly his face changed to its full vampire form. "Wow. That's really something," Spike said. He got to his feet swiftly, knocking over the chair, and strolled around the desk, past Angel.

"Hey, where are you going?" Angel followed him.

"Nowhere," Spike said. "Just… stretching my legs." He went and stood next to Buffy, who was looking him up and down.

"Wait," Angel thought about it. "Were you too weak to walk until just now? Is _that_ why you didn't go home? Because you couldn't? I thought you were just… depressed or something. Spike, why didn't you call me?"

"I got a lot of work done," Spike defended. "Besides, couldn't sleep with that headache…" He turned to Buffy, who had not taken her eyes off him. "What are you staring at?" he asked her.

"You look different," she said.

"Oh right, sorry." He shook his head and changed back to his human face. "That just felt so good. It's been a while."

"That's not what I meant," Buffy said. "You still look different." They all looked at Spike. It was true. He did look different. The dark circles were gone from his eyes. He looked less gaunt, younger, still pale but not deathly pale. However without his jacket to cover his form it was also plainly obvious how thin he had become.

"I feel different," Spike admitted. He flexed his neck. "Headache's gone. Hey, even my arm feels better!" Spike unbuckled the sling and stretched his arm. "Good enough," he approved. Then he looked at his other arm, sleeve still rolled up, and before their eyes they could see the bruises and track marks slowly fading and healing. Spike laughed slightly hysterically. "You're amazing, Buffy! Did I ever tell you that?" he gushed.

"A couple of times, I think," Buffy's smile was spontaneous. He'd taken her off guard. She was just happy to see Spike feeling better. Happy she had been able to help him.

"Of course this isn't a cure, by any means," Giles warned.

"You're just here to bring us all down, aren't you Giles," Angel accused, getting up and walking closer to Spike.

"I'm sorry, but it's true," Giles insisted. "I need to discuss the effects of the curse with Spike, so he has some time to think about the decisions he will need to make."

"Oh, I have options now?" Spike asked as he let Angel grab and inspect his healed right arm.

"Well, the thing is, we now know, thanks to Angel's demonstration earlier that the curse has progressed to the point where, when you die, there _will_ be a body left behind. Do you realise what this means?"

" _When_ he dies? Not _if_?" Angel asked. "Not hearing a lot of room for options there Giles."

"The choices I'm talking about are, well, does Spike wish to be buried, or cremated in the event that…"

Spike started sniggering. "Well, isn't this turning into a funeral!"

"Yes, quite literally, I'm afraid." Giles said. "Buffy's blood may have the power to restore your vigour temporarily but it cannot halt the curse's progress. You will continue to become more sensitive to light, especially sunlight, to the point where even the moon's reflected light at midnight will be painful, hence the name of the curse."

Spike turned to Angel. "Do we really have to listen to him right now, Boss? Cos I vote no. Who's in charge here, anyway?"

"Giles, shut up." Angel told him. "We'll do this another time."

"Another time?" Giles shook his head in frustration. "What I'm trying to get across here is that we are running out of time!"

Spike stood directly in front of Angel, blocking his view of Giles. "Angel, look at me," Spike insisted. "Look me in the eyes."

"Okay," Angel did as Spike asked.

"You want to help me, right?"

"Of course, Spike. I'll do anything."

"Hit me," Spike told him. "Hit me in the face. Hard. Come on!"

"Spike, I'm not going to hit you."

"Come on! You know you want to!" Spike grabbed Angel's shoulders angrily.

"No, I really don't," Angel steadied him. "And why would you…"

"If you hit me, I think I can still vamp again," Spike explained. "I want that feeling, Angel. I need it! Do it or I'll make you!"

"Spike, there's no way you can make me…"

Spike roared and lunged unsteadily at Angel who easily blocked his blow and caught him as he staggered. Spike leaned against Angel laughing insanely.

"Spike, what is wrong with you?" Buffy asked.

"Isn't it obvious? He's drunk," Angel observed, holding him up.

"He was drinking?" Buffy asked.

"I don't think so," Angel leaned in close to smell Spike's breath. Suddenly Spike grabbed him around the neck and kissed him full on the lips. "What the hell?" Angel pushed him away more forcefully than he intended, sending Spike reeling to the ground.

Spike sniggered. "You want it Angel. You've always wanted it."

Furious, Angel hauled Spike up by the shoulders, ready to do some damage.

"Don't hold back." Spike told him, bracing for the blow.

Angel's arms went slack. "Oh I get it. You're trying to make me hit you? You're an idiot, Spike."

"Oh come on, Angel!" Spike almost sobbed. "Do I have to beg? Because I will!"

"It's the blood," Giles realised. "Buffy's blood. He's intoxicated on it. I think we gave him too much."

"I'll take it from anyone," Spike rambled. "Giles, you still hate me right?" Giles shook his head. "Buffy?" Spike looked up. "Remember all the bad, bad things I've done to you? Does all that mean nothing now?" Buffy silently crossed her arms and looked away. "You got no compassion. None of you." Spike gave up in despair and collapsed onto the floor, staring at the ceiling.

"Right, I'm taking Spike home," Angel decided, dragging a semi-conscious Spike up by one shoulder. "Buffy, give me a hand?"

"Where to?"

"His apartment. On second thoughts, he can sleep it off on my bed. It's closer. Above my office."

"You live in the building?"

"What?"

"Let's get this over with," Buffy tentatively took Spike's other arm and helped Angel take him up to the bedroom above his office. They put him down on Angel's bed. Buffy stood idle at the end of the bed, while Angel made Spike comfortable.

"Get some rest, Spike," Angel said as he removed Spike's boots.

"Rest in peace, huh?" Spike murmured groggily.

"No. no. Just, sleep it off, okay?"

"I could sleep forever," Spike admitted. "I'm beat."

"Not forever. Just for a little while. I'll check on you soon, okay?"

Buffy came and stood beside Angel.

"Jeez, look what you did to him, Buffy," Angel looked up at her from the bedside. "He's out. Must be potent stuff you've got in your veins."

"Yeah," Buffy agreed. "Mine's stronger than the other slayer's. Improves with age, apparently. Imagine what it'll do when I'm like 90."

"You should bottle it."

"If you want my blood Angel, you're going to have to get it the old fashioned way." Buffy told him.

Angel turned to her and they shared a look.

"Well, look at the two of you," Spike said. He was not quite asleep after all it seemed. "This bed is big enough for three, you know."

Angel grinned, then turned serious. He leaned over the bed. "Not gonna happen. Get some rest, Spike. We'll talk later."

"Sure. Later. Talk…" Spike mumbled, closing his eyes.


	5. Efficiency

While Spike slept, Buffy and Angel met Giles in Angel's office so that he could explain to them what was happening to Spike and go through their plan.

"He's asleep?" Giles asked when Buffy and Angel first entered.

"He's out." Angel said.

"Good," Giles said. "I mean, it's probably for the best. He needs to rest and heal. Which unfortunately doesn't seem likely to happen unless he's unconscious."

Angel sighed as he sat down. "I can't believe I let things get this bad. I guess I was hoping… God, I don't know."

"It's okay," Buffy told him. "Giles has a plan."

"You do?" Angel looked up hopefully.

"Indeed. I've been looking into the possibility I suggested earlier. It might be possible to revive him after the demon has been expelled. Theoretically. It's a very interesting possibility."

"You think it could be possible to revive his body? Then Spike would still be… he'd be alive?"

"Yes," Giles was dead serious. "He would be human, in fact. Mortal."

"Wow." Angel was shocked. "That's… really possible?"

"I believe so," Giles nodded. "Although, needless to say, it has never been done before. These are extraordinary circumstances, the like of which has never been seen before. I can make no guarantees. And we must act quickly. I cannot stress this enough. As Spike's condition progresses, unable to feed, his body will deteriorate beyond repair. Even Buffy's blood will lose its effect. To maximise the chances of success, we need to do this as soon as possible."

"Do what exactly?" Angel asked.

"We need to organise with a hospital to set up the necessary life support equipment and a team of medical staff, in a room we can flood with sunlight. Then it is simply a matter of exposing Spike to full sunlight to expel the demon, and letting the medical team do their job."

"I can arrange that. I have contacts," Angel went to his desk. "But I don't know if Spike will agree to this."

"I suggest we make arrangements regardless," Giles said.

"I agree," Angel decided picking up the phone to make some calls. "Giles, what do we need in terms of magic supplies?"

"That's the curious thing about this situation," Giles noted. "It sounds almost ludicrous, but there is actually no magic required. Other than the curse, of course, which is already in place. The rest is science."

"Oh Spike's going to love this," Buffy said sarcastically. "He loves science."

Angel snorted in irritation. "Buffy, just…"

"What?"

"Look, I know it's kind of your 'thing', but can you just stop with the smartass comments?"

"I'm just saying…"

"Well, don't. You're not helping. Makes me wonder, why you're here."

"Excuse me?" Buffy became angry.

"Angel, you're distressed. Buffy's been doing an excellent job helping me with the research…" Giles began.

"Have I?" Buffy asked. "Come on, you don't need me, Giles. You've got it all figured out. You're not the only one Angel, I'm also beginning to wonder why I'm here!" Buffy told him. "You'd probably all prefer it if I did just go shopping! Is that all I'm good for now?"

"Come now Buffy, do be reasonable…" Giles began.

"It's true," Buffy became upset. "I'm trying _so_ hard, but it doesn't make a difference. Spike doesn't want me here. He told me so. I'm the last person alive he wants to see! And Angel, you and Spike have your thing, and I'm just getting in the way. I should have just sent a supply of my blood over with Giles because that's the only thing you need from me!" Buffy looked close to tears.

Angel held up his hand. "Buffy, I hate to brush you off right now, but I really need to make these calls." Angel dialled and got the hospital on the line, asking for a contact he knew who was connected to Wolfram and Hart. But when he finally had them on the line, he suddenly changed his mind. "I'll call you back," he dropped the phone and swiftly crossed the room.

Buffy and Giles turned around to see Spike had just entered. He stood at the far end of the room still pulling on his black leather coat. His hair was dishevelled. Angel was by his side immediately. "Hey, I didn't expect you to be up so soon," he spoke gently.

Spike gazed at Angel, slightly bewildered.

"Do you remember what happened earlier?" Angel asked.

Spike nodded silently.

"Come and sit down. It's time to talk," Angel encouraged and Spike did as he asked, albeit warily.

"Still here?" Spike said to Buffy and Giles.

Buffy looked down, saying nothing.

"Well don't hold back on my account, by any means," Spike commented.

"How are you feeling Spike?" Giles asked.

Spike thought about it. "Kind of numb. Which is better. You know, than… feeling like total sh... What's this?" Spike tilted his head to look at the notes and documents and books on the coffee table in front of them.

"Spike, we've been discussing a plan," Giles told him.

"Oh right, my funeral of course. Delightful. Let's have a look." Spike sniffed, picking up a sheet of paper from the table. "Wait, this isn't… What is this? You're not planning to put me in the ground at all, your planning… something… even more disturbing."

"Let me explain," Giles started, but Spike turned to Angel.

"Angel, what's going on?"

"Spike, we're just looking into all the options," Angel told him. "Nothing's decided. It's just that Giles thinks there's a chance we can save you if we do it soon, while you'll well, in a hospital where there are people who can do their best to…"

"What?" Spike sounded more hurt than angry. "If I'm gonna go Angel, at least I'm going out in a fight. I'm not lying in some hospital bed while this git plays doctors and nurses…"

"Spike, the longer we leave this, the less chance there is of reviving you successfully," Giles told him, "And the longer you wait, the more you will suffer, and the more painful your inevitable demise will be."

"I can't believe this." Spike leaned forward, elbows on knees, and hid his face behind clenched fists. "When?" Spike asked after a moment's silence.

"I beg your pardon?" Giles asked.

"So when exactly are you planning to euthanize me?"

"Either tomorrow or the day after that." Giles said.

Spike raised his head from his hands in shock. "Oh you just can't wait, can you Rupert?" His voice was murderous.

"It's not personal, Spike." Giles stayed calm.

"Oh, it's not personal? What is it then?" Spike burst out.

"It's your best option."

Spike got to his feet. "Well, I'd rather go to hell!"

Spike stormed to the door, only to be grabbed around the neck and lifted off his feet by a very large demon. "You're going to hell," the demon roared.

Angel, Buffy and Giles were on their feet instantly.

"It's no biggie." Spike gasped trying to loosen the demon's grip on his neck. "It's just my 11 o'clock. Take it easy big fella, let me go get the paperwork."

"Too late," the demon shook him mercilessly. "I've been waiting in your office for over 30 minutes. Clause 37. We fight to the death!"

"Oh shit. Clause 37. The efficiency clause," Angel sighed, going to his weapons closet and taking out a large double-headed axe.

"Efficiency clause?" Giles asked.

"Yeah," Angel explained. "It encourages staff to be punctual. Not to leave clients waiting."

"Clever," Giles commended.

"Are you sure your firm's not evil anymore?" Buffy asked, then shrugged. "At least here's something I can help with." Buffy lunged at the demon only to be thrown back by an invisible force.

"There's an anti-interference spell involved," Angel told her. "Spike has to fight on his own. It's in the fine print. But," Angel rifled some through some papers on his desk, "there are always loopholes to exploit." He strode towards the large and angry demon. "Hey, careful big guy, you don't wanna hurt him. Not just yet. You're liable for all damages until you sign this waiver." Angel held out the form.

The demon dropped Spike and made a grab for the paper. Buffy ran to help Spike, but the anti-interference spell brought her to a halt two feet before she reached him.

"I need a pen," the demon said.

"Oh, of course. Let me help you. Right this way." Angel led the demon to his desk, "Sign right here." As the demon bent to sign the form, Angel threw the axe to Spike.

Spike roared and swung the axe as hard as he could. The demon turned and the blow glanced off his armoured shoulder. "Ow, that hurt," the demon complained mildly.

"Not as much as this," Spike swung again, but the large demon grabbed the axe handle and snapped it, before grabbing Spike's arm about to do the same thing with that. "Angel, now might be a good time to talk about those funeral plans!" Spike shouted.

"Hey," Angel interrupted. "You need to date this signature too."

The demon let Spike go in frustration. While the demon turned back to Angel, Spike stumbled to Angel's weapon's closet, grabbing the first weapons he could. "Just something simple. Tasteful, you know?"

"Shut up and fight, Spike." Angel advised. "Oh, my mistake," he apologised to the demon, who had studied the paperwork and found nothing wrong with it.

"Simple tombstone," Spike continued as he dodged the demon's lunges. "'Here lies William, beloved son.' " He dodged again, and brandished a small dagger in each hand.

"That's all you've got?" Angel asked.

"Not much else to say, really. Unless you want to speak ill of the dead," Spike snarled as fiercely as he could without his demon face and charged at the large demon who knocked him to the ground with one arm. The others watched helplessly.

"Angel, as much as I admire the ingeniousness of this 'punctuality clause' of yours, it's not looking promising for Spike. Surely there must be some way to break the spell," Giles said.

"You're right. We need to tear up the contract," Angel told him. "Spike," he yelled out, "Where's the contract?"

"No, I'm gonna do this Angel. Fight to the death. One way or the other." Spike was on his feet again. But he dodged too late and the demon grabbed him and pounded him against the wall repeatedly. "Contract's on my desk," Spike changed his mind as he fell to the ground and narrowly avoided another blow.

"Buffy, go! You're the fastest," Giles instructed.

Buffy sped out of the room. She raced to Spike's office and stopped at his desk. It was covered in paperwork. Buffy picked up the pages and tried to make sense of the documents to figure out which one it could be. "This is impossible," she decided and started tearing. As quickly as she could she tore every last sheet of paper to sheds.

When Buffy returned to Angel's office she saw the body of the large demon on the floor, two daggers protruding from its chest and sticky purple blood oozing onto the polished floorboards. In the centre of the room Angel knelt over Spike who lay flat on his back.

"Was I too late? Is he…" Buffy began.

Angel looked up. "He's okay. Well, not okay, but… he killed the demon. With a little help." He leaned over Spike again. "You did good, Spike. But it was close. Too close. I can't risk that happening again."

"You're getting rid of clause 37?" Spike said faintly. "You love that clause."

"I really do," Angel admitted. "The clause stays," he decided. "But I'm cancelling all of your appointments. Right now." Angel jumped to his feet and went to his desk, turned to his computer screen and opened his email to do just that.

"Where's Giles?" Buffy looked around.

"Buffy," Angel said in a stage whisper. "Giles is busy. Be nice and help Spike up."

Buffy hesitated then went to Spike and knelt down. "Can you put your arms around me?" she asked.

"I thought you'd never ask." Spike's words were flippant but his tone and gaze was serious.

Buffy dropped her eyes. "Here," she placed his arm around her neck and lifted him just to a sitting position, shocked by the lack of help Spike seemed able to give her. "Are you hurt?" she asked. "Can you get up?"

"Give me a minute," he said weakly.

Buffy just held him against her, trying not to cry. "Angel?" she called for his help. She was strong enough to lift Spike on her own, but she was so small it would be uncomfortable for him and she didn't want to cause him further pain.

Angel came to Spike's side and together they lifted Spike and carried him back to Angel's bed for the second time that day. "I've cleared your calendar, Spike. You're in no condition to be working at all, anyway. The other staff can handle it. And don't worry that we just broke that contract. We should have got rid of that client a while ago. Creepy monster."

"What? But his kind don't harm humans, do they?" Spike asked.

"No, but all those rituals with the costumes and the miming... It's weird shit. Creeps me out. Gotta be evil _somehow_. You did the world a good deed killing that demon, Spike, no doubt about it."

"Angel are you talking this up because it was my last fight? Was that the last demon I'm ever going to kill?" Spike raised his head from the pillow. He got the feeling that Angel was patronising him.

"No, of course not," Angel said uncomfortably. His voice turned hard as he added, "You got one more to kill," he said ominously. "Your own."

Spike realised Angel was talking about Giles's plan to kill the demon in him and try to revive him in the hospital. "I said I'm not doing it, Angel," Spike pulled himself to his elbows. "It's crazy talk. It won't work."

"You don't have to decide yet. Giles is making the preparations. Of course we won't go ahead unless you want us to. But Spike, think about it. You could be _human_."

" _If_ it works. Which I highly doubt. And besides… I don't want to be human. Didn't like it much the first time round. Rather be dead."

Angel looked pained. He clearly had objections, but didn't want to get into an argument. He shoved Spike rather fiercely back down on the bed. "Get some rest," he got to his feet abruptly. "I'm talking to Buffy, then one of us will be back to check on you." Angel grabbed Buffy and shut the door behind them.

"Buffy, what you were saying earlier. I'm sorry I cut you off. I do care about how you feel. And I think you need to work through this. You need to talk to Spike. Which is why I've decided I'm going to try to hang back and give you some time alone with him to do that."

"No, you were right earlier. This is about what's best for Spike," Buffy told him. Now that it came down to it, she was nervous about being alone with Spike for the first time since the destruction of Sunnydale. "Spike's more comfortable with you. You know what to say to him. You know what he needs. I should be the one to stay away… I'll probably just make things worse anyway…"

"This _is_ what's best for Spike," Angel interrupted her. "Buffy, I don't know the ins and outs of what happened with your relationship with Spike and frankly I don't want to think about it too much. But I know Spike thinks the world of you. Hell, he got his soul back for you, Buffy. This could be the last chance you get to… make things right with him. But most importantly, if we go through with Giles's plan – I can't stay with him. You have to be there for him."

"Why can't you? Oh, right, the bit where we flood the room with sunlight."

"I wish I could, Buffy. But you have to be the one."


	6. Unbearable

Buffy took a deep breath, before opening the door to Angel's bedroom. Angel have convinced her to stay with Spike while he finalised preparations with Giles. "Hey," she said, coming to sit on the bed next to Spike.

"Buffy," Spike struggled to sit up against the pillows. "I thought it would be Angel to come check on me."

"Yeah, I thought so too. He has work to do," Buffy explained. "How do you feel? Are you in pain?"

"Not as much as I should be, strangely." Spike told her. "But it'll come, I'm sure."

"It's my blood," Buffy explained. "Giles says it has anaesthetic properties for vampires. Speaking of which, I'm supposed to give you another shot."

"Buffy, I'm sorry," Spike said earnestly.

"You don't have anything to be sorry about, Spike." Buffy almost whispered.

"I've wanted to call you all this time."

"It's fine." She turned away.

"But I wasn't sure if I was really back for good. At first, I thought I was a ghost."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And then Angel convinced me that you'd probably gotten on with your life. Which I see now you obviously have."

"You would think." Buffy gave a wry smile.

"I didn't know how or what to say. So I didn't. But figured I was doing what was best for you."

"Is that right."

"I'd give the world for you, Buffy," Spike swore.

"I know it," Buffy gulped. His feelings really had not changed. "I believe you. Because you did. You gave up the world for me. Or I thought you did. And I gave you up for the world. I'm the one who should be sorry."

"You did what you had to do. You always do. It's why I love you. Your strength."

Buffy blushed. She had been so afraid Spike would be angry at her, but his adulation was equally uncomfortable. She hardly felt worthy of it. "Apocalypses I can do," Buffy admitted. "But getting back to normal life afterwards… not so much." She looked up. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay with you until the end. I want to make it up to you. If I can." She looked into his deep blue eyes. "I'm not leaving you this time. Not until it's over."

"Promise?"

"I swear."

There was a knock on the door as sunrise approached.

"Come in!" Buffy called out.

Angel entered his bedroom to see Buffy sitting up in his bed. She looked up from her cell phone which was making magical noises. Was Buffy playing Candy Crush? Spike lay beside her, fast asleep, his head resting peacefully against her thigh.

"Did you guys..."Angel began, feeling a surge of irrational jealousy at the sight of them together. Why on earth had he encouraged Buffy to get close to Spike? Leaving them alone in his bedroom? What had he been thinking? But he noticed they were both fully clothed.

"Sleep together? Yes. Have sex? No." Buffy seemed amused by Angel's agitation.

"Thank god," Angel breathed a sigh of relief.

"Angel," Buffy decided it was time to share a few realities with Angel, rather than have him left speculating on their relationship. It was time to clear the air. "It's not what you think. Even if Spike was up for it, which you know he's not, Spike and I don't have _that_ kind of relationship."

"No?" Angel didn't believe her. "I can handle it Buffy. Don't lie to me. I know you and Spike were..."

"Were, as in past tense, Angel." Buffy pointed out. She took a deep breath. "Yes Angel, I did have a sexual relationship with Spike. For a while. But that happened before he got his soul back."

"You were sleeping with Spike _before_ he had a soul?" Angel was shocked.

"Not sleeping with," Buffy clarified. "We were having sex."

"Buffy... That's..."

"Screwed up, I know. I was in a bad place at the time, but still, I shouldn't have let it happen. As you can imagine it was a destructive relationship."

"With a soulless vampire? With _Spike_? I really don't want to imagine." Angel shuddered.

"And I'm not giving details Angel. Other than to say it went from bad to worse. Spike left after... the worst… happened. Came back with a soul. After which we never..."

"Slept together," Angel finished.

"Actually, we did sleep together a couple of times. It was a full house. There was a lack of beds. The world was ending…" Buffy looked down at Spike's sleeping form beside her. "But we never had sex again."

"So, let me get this straight. You and I have a good relationship, have sex, I lose my soul. You and Spike have a bad relationship, have sex, he gets his soul back? Where's the justice in that?"

Buffy shrugged.

"Well, thanks for telling me, I guess," Angel said awkwardly. "I'm glad you Spike had a chance to talk… but I'm even gladder that's _all_ you did." Angel glared. He didn't quite seem to know what to do and paced awkwardly in the room. "You know, I'm really beat," he admitted. "You mind if I lie down on my own bed?"

"Oh, of course," Buffy suddenly realised it was Angel's bedtime and they were in his room. "I'm sorry. I'll get up. Should I wake Spike?"

"No rush," Angel pulled his shirt off. "Bed's big enough for three. It's all good between the three of us now, right? No one's getting any?"

"Not from me," Buffy assured him.

He changed into his pyjamas and got into the other side of the bed, stretching out on his stomach and resting his head on his arms.

Buffy looked down at Spike on one side of her and Angel on the other. She couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation. "Look at this. My two favourite vampires with souls. In bed with me at the same time. I just don't know what to do. Wait, yes I do," Buffy held up her cell phone and leaned in towards Angel. Before he knew what she was doing she had snapped a selfie of the three of them. Angel was prepared to grab her phone and delete it, until he saw Buffy's expression change to sadness as she viewed the image. Tears welled in her eyes. "I'm going to keep this forever," she became sentimental.

"Keep what?" Spike stirred. He lifted his head from Buffy's lap and turned to see Angel in the bed also. His expression was understandably confused. He frowned and pressed his hand to his forehead.

At that moment there was a knock on the door. "Who the hell?" Angel cursed sitting up. Buffy jumped out of bed quickly as the door opened.

"Morning," he Giles greeted them taking no notice of their embarrassment.

"Why are you here at the crack of dawn?" Buffy asked rather impolitely.

Giles ignored them and went directly to Spike. "Spike, can you feel it yet?"

"Of course I can feel it," Spike said sitting up.

"Feel what?" Angel and Buffy asked.

"The daylight," Giles explained. "The sun is rising." He turned to Spike. "You're feeling it worse than previously, am I right?"

"Ten-fold," Spike confessed. "I can feel it burning through me. Radiating. Through my skin, my flesh, my guts, my brain. It's searing. Like the hangover from hell." He pulled himself up from the bed. "But I've felt worse. I can take it."

"Spike, this curse is unrelenting," Giles warned. "The effects are intensifying very quickly now. As the sun rises higher you will feel it more than ever. There will be no respite until the sun sets. By midday today..."

"Midday?"

"When the sun is at its apex. You will not be able to take it at full strength." Giles promised.

"You don't know what I can take," Spike countered aggressively.

"Spike, you _have_ to face up to this," Giles argued, frustrated by Spike's stubbornness. "I've explained all of this to you already. Do not make the mistake of thinking you are above this. No vampire is. You cannot win. In the end it will defeat you in the same way it has every other vampire ever affected by Midnight's curse. It doesn't help anyone to keep pretending this is not happening. You must try to handle this responsibly. If you do not you will only cause more suffering, not only your own, but for those who care about you. I've made the arrangements, but I need your cooperation in this. We need to get you to the hospital before the sun rises any higher - while you can still travel. Spike, you need to prepare for the inevitable."

Spike threw on his jacket angrily. "You need to prepare for _no fucking way in hell_!" he swore in Giles face before pushing past him and slamming the door.

"So, Spike has still not accepted our plan yet, I take it?" Giles asked.

Spike had shut himself up in his office again, but Angel promised Buffy and Giles that he would keep a close eye on him. Buffy and Giles went out to get breakfast at a sunny cafe. They were finishing up, when Buffy checked her cell phone.

"Hey, who's this text from?" she wondered opening the message from an unknown number. She read the message aloud. "Changed my mind. Fancy a suntan." She looked blank. "Huh?"

"It's Spike," Giles realised.

Buffy was on the phone to Angel immediately. "Angel, please pick up!" she panicked. Finally he answered.

"Buffy?"

"Angel, where's Spike?"

"In his room."

"He texted me. He's changed his mind. You need to take him to the hospital. Looks like we're doing this today after all. We'll meet you there."

"He texted you? He didn't call me?"

"Who cares?"

"What did he say exactly and when?" Angel demanded to know.

"He said he's changed his mind. Something about a suntan. He sent the message half an hour ago."

Angel hung up.

"Do we go straight to the hospital?" Buffy asked Giles.

"I suppose so," he replied. It was ten thirty in the morning. One and a half hours until midday.

Angel went straight to Spike's office. The door was locked. "Spike? Open the door!" he called, but waited only a moment before kicking the door down. He stepped into the darkened room. He knew immediately that something was not right. The heavy black curtains were drawn across all the windows despite them being made from the tempered glass that normally allowed vampires to work comfortably in the Wolfram and Hart offices. "Spike? Are you here?" Angel confronted the eerie silence. He walked to Spike's desk. It was a mess, covered with shredded paper and cigarette butts. Spike was not there. Angel was beginning to feel an urgent sense of dread. He felt a faint breeze and heard traffic and shouting in the street below. He hurriedly pulled the curtain back to reveal that one of the window panes was smashed through. It was daylight in the street below although shadows from the buildings shaded most of the street and the sky was beginning to cloud over. And where was Spike?

"Tell me this isn't happening," Angel said to himself before tugging down one of the black curtains and jumping out the window to land on his feet on the pavement. He stepped into the shade against the wall. Despite the overcast skies, the light was still brighter than was comfortable for him. If Spike was still alive he would have to find him fast. He looked left then right. Where would he have gone? Angel pulled out his cell phone and called Buffy.

"Buffy? Spike's gone. And I don't think he's headed to the hospital. I'm in the street outside our offices. I'm going to look for him. But if the sun comes out I'm toast and Spike's… I'll call you back." Angel heard a commotion down the street and around the corner. The sound of angry voices and the beep of car horns. He ran to the scene.

The traffic in the street had come to a standstill. "Stay off the road, god damn drug addict!" someone yelled. Someone shoved a stumbling and trembling figure into the gutter. It was Spike. Two police officers arrived at the scene and began to harass him. Angel ran to intervene before they brought out the handcuffs.

Giles and Buffy arrived outside Wolfram and Hart just as Angel made his way up the steps to the entrance, a shrouded form slung over his shoulder.

"Is he…" Giles began.

"He's still will us," Angel said darkly. "If you could call it that."

"Boss, I've been looking for you," A man ran up to them. "The accounting reports are…"

"It'll have to wait," Angel brushed him off.

The three of then stepped into the lift and went up to Angel's room again and Angel dropped Spike to the bed, throwing back the black drape to reveal the violently trembling vampire. He looked like death as he stared almost unseeingly with dark glazed eyes.

"What were you thinking Spike?" Angel was distressed. "If the sun had come out…"

"You fool… you realise… that was…," Spike managed with chattering teeth, "the general… idea."

"Buffy," Giles was the only calm person in the room. "We are going to need more of your blood."

"No," Spike shuddered. "I don't… I don't want it. Any of it. Stop trying to help me! Why'd you drag me back here? Can't you people… ever…just… leave?" His eyes glistened feverishly as he peered out from the black drapes.

"I can't watch him like this," Angel was anguished. "What do we do?"

"Go with Buffy. Draw her blood and bring it to me. I'll stay with Spike. He's not going anywhere now. He's too weak. Go!" Giles told them and they left the room.

As soon as Buffy and Angel left the room, Giles shut the door and turned to Spike angrily.

"I have to say I've had it with your childish behaviour, Spike."

"What?" Spike looked up trembling from the curtain folds.

Irritated, Giles pulled the drapes away from Spike who cowered against the bedhead. "That was an incredibly stupid and selfish thing you just did," he admonished. "The needless pain and drama you are causing for Angel and for Buffy? Can you imagine what could have happened? If Angel had not found you so quickly? If you had been arrested? If the sun had come out? Did you even think about the consequences?"

"You… don't know… what this is like. I'm in torment here!" Spite protested.

"That's rich," Giles said coldly. "I _warned_ you not five hours ago, Spike! And you said you could take it. Of course I assumed you meant like a man, not a snivelling baby."

"Hey!"

"You don't deserve this chance!"

"The chance to be human? I never asked for it. I don't want it. Don't believe it. It's… a farce!" Spike spat with disgust.

Giles laughed harshly. "In your current state, I've no doubt it is! You seem intent on sabotaging the very possibility. Honestly Spike, it's up to you. If you don't want us to try to revive you, that's your call. I'm talking about the chance to say your final farewells to the world and to the people who care about you. If you want to continue this destructive adolescent behaviour it will be to the detriment of those around you. You can't take this for much longer and it's not fair to subject those who care about you to any more unnecessary pain and suffering. It's time to stop running away. Man up and take responsibility for your actions. Are you ready to do that?"

Spike said nothing.

"Spike, either you agree to sit down and make a plan to deal with this or I will stake you right now."

"What? You… you wouldn't…"

"It would leave a bloody mess, but at least it would be over. I will not sit idly by while you inflict any more pain on Buffy and Angel." Giles grabbed Spike by the shoulders and tried to shake some sense into him. "I'm going to ask you one last time: Are you ready to co-operate or shall I end this for you now?"

"I want to…" Spike mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Speak up."

"I want to do it."

"Do what?"

"Be… behave… like a man…do… the right thing. By Buffy… and Angel."

"Can you can do it?"

"What, be a man? Please! Er…We're only talking for the next 24 more hours, right?"

"If that's what you decide."

"I'll do it. For 24 hours. I'll do… whatever it takes…Until midday tomorrow."

"I'm pleased to hear it." Giles let Spike go and he fell down on the bed.

"But you have to help me Giles. I'm going out of my mind here. I never meant to hurt Buffy… or Angel… I just…I… I can't think straight…How do I do this?"

Giles softened. "First, you get through today. Buffy's blood will help take the edge off. No more locked doors. No more smashing windows. If you feel you're not coping, you tell me. There are some spells which may help if necessary. After sunset you will be able to think more clearly. We will sit down tonight and together we will decide how you want to do this. Agreed?"

"Thanks," Spike nodded, curling up into the foetal position on Angel's bed. "Could I have my blanket back now?"


	7. Decisions

Angel came into the bedroom with a syringe full of Buffy's blood. He shut the door and came to stand beside Giles. He looked at his bed. Spike was almost entirely hidden under the curtains and covers. Only his boots stuck out from under the heavy black drapes and Angel's satin sheets. Angel could see he was still trembling. "He's that sensitive to light? I don't suppose you managed to talk any sense into him?" Angel asked.

"It's a difficult task," Giles admitted, taking the syringe from Angel, "at the best of times."

"Yeah. Tell me about it."

Angel watched as Giles leaned over Spike's covered form. "Spike, give me your arm," he said, drawing the covers back. Spike was curled up with his arms clutching his head and shoulders. Giles grabbed his arm and covered the rest of him again. "Sorry," he apologised. "I'm hoping this will help." He injected the full syringe of blood into Spike's pale arm. Spike quickly drew his arm back out of sight. He said nothing, but groaned and pulled the drapes more tightly over himself.

"I know how much pain he can take," Angel said darkly. "Christ, there were times when I used to put it to the test. He must be in hell."

"Yes, he's barely lucid. However, I made some headway. He has agreed to sit down and decide on a plan later."

"I'll believe that when it happens. After that spur-of-the-moment daytime stroll earlier…"

"Yes, that was unfortunate. I had not realised his condition had progressed to such an extent, even since yesterday. I suspect when you held his hand in the sunlight yesterday it accelerated the separation of his human and demon selves. The ties that bind the two are stretched thin now."

"God, I shouldn't have done that," Angel with remorse. "I just… this all seems so unreal. I wanted proof I could grasp, you know?"

"Maybe it was something we all needed. Even Spike. I'm just hoping that the Slayer blood is capable of restoring Spike sufficiently, albeit temporarily, so that he can consider his options with enough clarity to make a rational choice."

"Or, here's a thought," Angel countered forcefully, "We could just _ignore_ his stupid wishes, and go ahead with it!"

The bundle of drapes that was Spike dragged itself up and sat against the bedhead, his knees pulled up to his chin. He drew the coverings back from his face. "You mean like you're _ignoring_ the fact I'm actually still in the room right now?"

"Spike!" Angel was instantly by his side, springing onto the bed beside him as only a vampire could. "Tell me you feel better than you look because honestly, you look fifty shades of hell."

"How much of her blood did you give me? Is she okay?"

"To be honest Spike, Buffy's not my main concern right now," Angel told him.

"Angel, I won't to hurt her just so that I suffer a bit less. If it makes no difference in the end..."

"You need this right now Spike. Buffy offered. She wants to do this for you. She's fine with it."

"But she _won't_ be fine if you keep dosing me up like this." Spike knew from the way he felt that he had more of Buffy's blood in his veins than ever before. "What did you give me, a quart?"

"She'll live," Angel pointed out, which was more than he could say for Spike. "Besides, we won't have to keep this up. Not for much longer." What could he say to make Spike see things his way? "Spike, you have to go with Giles's plan. I know you keep saying you don't want to be human but... It's either that or... the end. Come on, how bad can it be? If it were me… You know I'd give anything to be human…"

"I know, Angel. And I'd change places with you in a heartbeat, if that was an option. Bloody brilliant if it was. But it's not. _I don't want this_."

" _And I don't want to lose you_ ," Angel whispered fervently. " _Don't you get that?_ "

"Angel," Spike met his gaze and tried to hold it. "I know how you feel. It's bleedin' obvious." He kept his voice as level as he could. "I know how you feel, Angel. But this is _my_ decision, not yours. Let me make it. Don't push me. Because you'll push me _away_. I told Giles I'd make this decision after sunset tonight, and I will." It took all Spike's concentration to keep his gaze steady on Angel. He was trying as hard as he could to keep it together. "You need to step away from this let me think it through."

Angel backed down. "Right." He closed his eyes. "You're right. I'm being an asshole."

"Yeah. It's okay. Hard for you to help it, I know." Spike swallowed. "Angel, go check on Buffy. Just… make sure she's okay. Tell her I'm grateful and that I'm… fine."

"I can do that." Angel jumped from the bed and left the room.

"I'm actually impressed," Giles told Spike from where he had been standing against the wall. "That was mostly quite mature."

Spike gave Giles the finger as he pulled the drapes back over himself and disappeared completely under the folds of cloth as he collapsed back into the bed.

Angel watched impatiently as the sun slowly set below the LA skyline, flooding his office with liquid orange light. He turned to look at Buffy as she lay on his sofa, sipping lemonade to keep her fluids up. The afternoon had turned sunny and she had given so much of her blood to Spike to get him through the day that she felt drained. "Can you stop with the pacing?" she asked him for the hundredth time.

Angel came and sat opposite her on the sofa. "Sun's setting. Finally." He jumped to his feet. I'm going up."

But Buffy grabbed his arm. "Angel," she gripped his hand in hers and reminded gently. "I thought you were giving him space?"

"Right." Angel sat down again. He was silent only a moment. "This is torture."

"For you?" Buffy said dryly.

"Yeah," Angel admitted. "I'd rather it was me. Suffering. Making the decision. I'm supposed to just sit back and watch? And accept whatever Spike decides? He's an idiot. What if he decided wrong? Why don't I get a say?"

"Because this isn't about you," Buffy pointed out.

"No? It is to me." Angel got up again and started pacing. "I sired him. Not directly, sure. But he's mine. Spike wouldn't exist if it wasn't for me. I should get a say. I should make the decision."

"Angel, you're doing that thing again," Buffy reminded him.

"Being an asshole? That's what Spike said. He's right. God, h knows me so well. That's why I need him. That's why…" Angel stopped when he heard Giles footsteps. He turned around.

When Giles came into the office it was several hours after sunset. He had been talking to Spike for a long time. He told Angel and Buffy the news: Spike had decided. They had made a plan. They would take him to the hospital in the early morning before sunrise. There they would meet the doctors who Angel had contacted. Wolfram and Hart had worked with them on 'Special Projects'. They had an academic interest in the case and Spike had agreed to let them document his case. Spike had agreed to let them do any tests or any spells that might help him or be of interest to the Watcher's Council, but only up until midday. At midday they would draw back the curtains, flood the room with sunlight, and expel the demon from his body. However, Spike did not agree to any medical intervention after that point. He did not give them permission to try to revive his body.

"Spike, why are you so adamant that you don't want to become human?" Giles had questioned him in the darkness of Angel's room. He had just given the vampire another shot of slayer blood after they had finalised the plan for the coming day. Giles had put his notebook aside for now. Spike, still slightly high on Buffy's blood, perched on Angel's dresser, smoking and gazing out the window at the waning moon.

"Honestly?" Spike had opened up. "I don't think it's wise to inflict over one hundred years of everything I've done, everything I've seen, and thought, and _felt_ on my weak mortal human self," Spike had explained. "I don't want to die, Giles. But there are worse things."

"What sort of a man were you Spike, that you have such a low opinion of your mortal self?" Giles had asked out of curiosity.

"The sort loved only by his mother," Spike admitted, tapping cigarette ash into Angel's underwear drawer.

"That bad?" Giles had remarked.

"Yeah, that bad," Spike had smirked in the darkness.

"Are you afraid you will become that man again?"

Spike laughed. "I could never be that man again, if I tried, Giles. I'd be something worse. Humans are weak. They can only take so much."

"I didn't realise you held such a low opinion of us," Giles had said coldly.

"I didn't mean it like that." Spike had complained. "You don't know who I was as a human. I do. It would end badly. I won't do it."

"It's your decision," Giles had acknowledged.

"Damn right it is! And don't let Angel double-cross me on this Giles. I know he has this fantasy that if he became human it'd be happily ever after with Buffy. It would never work out like that. Not for him. And it sure as hell wouldn't for me! I'll do my bit for science, but come midday, this is what I want: Expel the demon and bury me in the ground. That's it."


	8. Moonlight Walk

"The Watcher said you where ranting and raving about me," Spike informed Angel, leaning over his desk where he sat feigning busyness. "Anything you want to say to my face?"

Angel looked up at him. "What's the point? You've made up your mind."

Spike said nothing.

"So, your last night on Earth. You got any plans?" Angel asked, trying his hand at polite conversation.

"I was going to stay sitting in the dark with my fags and booze, but Giles disapproved. You?"

Angel was silent.

"Other than your usual brooding and sulking act at not getting your own way."

"Hey!" Angel gave in. "Other than that, no."

"Then let's take a walk together," Spike offered what had been Giles's suggestion when he had found Spike still chain smoking in the dark in Angel's bedroom.

"Seriously? You're still recovering from your last little 'walk'." Angel pointed out.

"No sunlight this time. Just the stars, the lights of LA. A bit of moonlight if we stay out long enough."

"Think you can handle it?"

"Let's find out."

"I'll get my coat."

The two vampires took a stroll down to the docks.

"What am I gonna do without you, Spike?" Angel asked leaning against the railings of the pier.

"Not so long ago you would have been delighted to be rid of me," Spike kicked absently at the ground.

"I guess things change."

"That they do. You'll be fine."

"I don't know," Angel confessed sombrely.

"You don't need me," Spike stood up straight and looked Angel in the face, braving the topic they had fallen to avoiding of late. "You've been relying on me because you don't have a team anymore. You need to get a team, Angel. You can't keep avoiding that."

"I had a team. Didn't work out. Maybe I'm just not a team player."

"Understatement of the century. But that's why you need a team.  
To keep you in line. Stop you from moping about. Or, you know, worse. Turning evil. Again."

"I just... Can't keep losing people, you know. I can't do it. And now you? I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Not people then. I've got it, Angel. Robots. You can build yourself a robot team."

"You're not listening Spike. I don't want any kind of team. I want _you_."

Spike wasn't listening. "You need people who can stand up to you. As an equal. Who you can trust. Rely on. You could make a robot that's as strong as you, Angel. If you program it yourself then you could always rely on it and trust it - more than you'll ever trust me. Program it with all of..."

"Your moves, your history, your quirks, your insults... I guess I could make it look just like you, too. Maybe do something different with the hair, though."

"A spikebot huh? Not actually what I had in mind." Spike eyed Angel warily.

"You think it's possible?" Angel asked him.

"Um… yeah. If that's what you want, Angel. Sure, it's _possible_ but… What? When you get lonely you can turn me on?" Spike hadn't meant that the way it came out.

"I can't turn your soul on."

"Hey! I'm not your fair lady Professor Higgins. Nothing kinky, okay? Hypocritical of me to object, I suppose but…" Spike fell silent for a moment and became serious. "I'm not changing my mind about the whole being human thing, Angel."

"Why not?"

"I've made my choice. I'm trying to do the right thing here, Angel. For everyone. Isn't that what we try to do now we have souls?"

"You sure you've made the right choice?"

"Yeah."

"Well if I can't have the real you, I'm not going to make do with some creepy mechanical substitute. How'd you come up with such a dumb idea?"

"Doesn't matter. Your right, it'd never work." Spike fell silent and they watched the water lapping against the pier. As the crests of the waves began to ripple with a silver glow, Spike cringed and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Spike, are you okay?"

Spike opened his eyes and looked out over the water. "Moon's rising."

Angel turned and looked. "Reflected sunlight." As the moon's orb crept above the horizon Angel could see how its pale light was affecting Spike. He could see his muscles tense and his face turn pale. But Spike made no attempt to move out of the silver light. He'd always been too stubborn for his own good. "Hey," Angel finally pulled Spike back into the shadows. "Time to head back. We can stick to the darkest alleys."

"There's sure to be nasties down there. Do we fight them? What's the plan?"

"Stay close. Hold my hand," Angel told him.

Remembering when Angel had made the same request at the Deeper Well, Spike held out his hand, but this time Angel's hand was empty as he clasped Spike's in his. Spike looked at Angel quizzically.

"Come on, you're not fighting, Spike. Not tonight. But don't worry, the demons will get what's coming to them. I'll go back for them later. After I walk you home."

"That's… very gentlemanly of you," Spike said with a raised eyebrow. Why was Angel so adamant he not risk getting hurt? What difference did it make in the end?

"Yeah, it is," Angel told him. "I'm respectful like that."

Spike came in alone and sat down next to Buffy on the sofa.

"How was the walk?" Buffy asked sitting up and making room for him.

"Romantic," Spike told her with a wry smirk. "We held hands."

Buffy grinned at the thought. "Did you kill anything?" she wanted to know.

"No. Should we have?" Spike asked uncertainly.

"I don't know," Buffy shrugged. "My romantic moonlit walks always involve a little death and destruction," Buffy explained.

"Oh, I'm saving the death and destruction for the daylight hours," Spike said darkly.

"Oh god, Spike, I didn't mean…I'm an idiot." Buffy sat up, all humour gone.

"S'okay," Spike told her. "No need to tip toe around me. Like Angel is."

"Why do you say that?"

"Treating me all fragile, like. Acting like he doesn't hate me right down to the bottom of his heart. Pretending to have a shed of respect for me. Either he's gone soft or…"

"So, he… behaved himself then?" Buffy smiled wanly.

"He's gotta be mad at me. Deep down, he's seething."

Buffy sighed. "He's upset, Spike. He's really sad that he's losing you. Is that so hard to believe?"

"You know, he's gone back out to kill anything he can find. I'd say he's mad."

"He's dealing with it in his own way," Buffy shrugged. "This is hard for him."

"You'll keep an eye on him when I'm gone, right? From a distance, at least? Make sure he doesn't… completely lose it?"

"The two of you have gotten pretty close lately," Buffy observed.

"Yeah… I guess," Spike conceded warily. "Depending on what you mean by that."

Buffy grinned cheekily then turned serious. She put her hand to his face. "The more I look at you, Spike, the more I realise how much I miss you."

"I'm already gone to you?"

It was true. "I'm sorry. Seeing you again feels like a dream," Buffy admitted. "You're like a ghost come back so that I can say goodbye the way I should have." Buffy became teary.

"How's that?"

Buffy's eyes glistened with tears as she leaned in to kiss him.

Giles walked in carrying a delivery box to find Buffy making out with Spike on Angel's leather sofa.

"Spike, I thought you were with Angel," he said with a frown.

Spike pulled his mouth away from Buffy. "Angel's out fighting evil. Helping the people. Redemption and all that. He's dedicated that way. No need to let the imminent death of someone he's known for over a century get in the way of the mission." Spike could see Giles's lack of appreciation for him attitude. "Fine. I pissed him off and he wanted to kill something. I expect he'll be back when he's hacked enough bodies to shreds," Spike admitted.

"The supplies arrived?" Buffy asked, still wrapped around Spike's arm, clasping his hand in her own.

"What supplies?" Spike asked.

"Something that may help you once the sun rises. Speaking of which, you should be getting some rest while you still can," Giles told Spike pointedly.  
"Too late for that," Spike explained. "The moon's up. I can feel its invisible rays. Even in here, in the dark. Like a thousand needles threading through me with no anaesthetic. Could you sleep through that?" Giles looked a little disturbed and unsure how to respond. "Don't worry Giles, I'll catch up on some shut-eye soon enough when I'm dead."

"Spike, if you're in pain already, we should get you to the hospital as soon as possible," Giles said in his calm but serious tone.

"Yeah," Spike swallowed. "I'm ready."

"Let's go, then," Giles decided. "I'll call Angel to let him know. He can meet us there."

As they walked to the car Giles commented to Spike, "You seem to be handling this better that I expected, Spike. I'm surprised."

"I've died a couple times already, Giles. Should be a real pro at it by now," He glanced over at Buffy as she slid into the back seat of Giles's car. "Just like your slayer, here."

"Oh, it doesn't get any easier, believe me," Buffy told him, pulling him into the car beside her, shoving some of Giles's books aside. "At least, not the way I do it."

"I think where we've both gone wrong in the past," Spike pointed out, "is that you're not supposed to come back from it. I'm trying to do things good and proper this time 'round. No fuck-ups. Third time lucky, right?"

"Best of luck," Giles said, a bittersweet tone in his voice as he started the engine.


	9. Finale

Daybreak was approaching when Angel pulled up at the hospital. He wished he hadn't got carried away slaying those demons in the alley. He had assumed he would have time to go home and shower, but after the fight he had checked his phone to find three missed calls from Giles and a message asking him to come straight to the hospital. He left his dripping weapons in the back of the car, wiped the oozing green blood off his jacket and fixed his hair as best he could.

He entered the private hospital ward and was met by a scene of noisy confusion. Medical and science personnel were rushing in and out. He stood amidst the chaos feeling anxious and overwhelmed. Surely nothing was urgent yet. The sun was not even up. He still had until midday, right? In a few moments the door to the private doctor's office opened and Giles appeared.

"Ah, Angel!" Giles raised his eyebrows as he closed the door carefully behind him.

"What's going on Giles?" Angel approached him, a terrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Where's Buffy? Where's Spike?"

"There's been a change of plan," he told Angel as calmly as he could, nodding towards the frantic activity in the ward. "Spike signed the consent forms."

"What? Which ones?"

"All of them. Consent to medical intervention. Angel, he's given permission for us to try to revive his body. The medical team is making last minute preparations."

Angel was ecstatic with relief. He had thought something must have gone wrong, but Spike had finally come to his senses! He had been wrestling with whether or not he should use his position at Wolfram and Hart to overrule Spike's decision. Force the doctors to carry out Giles's plan, bribery or blackmail, whatever it took. But it was better this way. Much better. "Giles I could hug you!" he gushed.

"Please don't, you're covered in… what is that?" Giles pulled back in mild disgust.

"What did you say to him? How did you change his mind?" Angel wanted to know.

"I didn't say anything," Giles assured him. "I've no idea why he did it, Angel. He seemed so adamantly against it right up until it came time to put pen to paper. But you better go in. There are some forms you need to sign too."

"Me?"

"Spike is giving you medical authority. If he should he be unable to give consent in the future."

"What do you mean?"

"If we revive his body, but he doesn't regain consciousness," Giles explained. "We still have no idea if this is going to work, Angel. The theory seems sound, but the reality is that we have no idea what will happen. There could be all manner of complications. You will have authority to withdraw life support if, well if things don't work as well as we hope."

Angel paled. "Right. Of course." He gulped, turning serious again. "Guess I'd better go in."

…

Angel entered the doctor's office to find Spike seated opposite the head doctor, staring at the substantial array of paperwork on the desk.

"Ah, Mr Angel, your signature please," the doctor requested. The doctor began talking Angel through the conditions and clauses of each form, but he was hardly listening.

Angel caught Spike's glance momentarily as he handed him the pen.

"What took you so long?" Spike asked. His voice sounded flat and expressionless.

"What made you change your mind?" Angel asked with such an intensity that Spike had to look away. "Come on, you can tell me, Spike."

At that moment there was a knock on the door. "Mr Spike, please come this way," the nurse requested. "We have only 20 minutes left until sunrise."

"Sunrise? We're doing this at sunrise? I thought the plan was scheduled for midday?" Angel stood up in a panic, blocking Spike's exit and only just managing to refrain from grabbing his arms.

Spike swallowed. "You wanna give me time to rethink? Change my mind again Angel?"

"No," Angel shook his head fervently. "But…"

"I'm not bloody waiting around. If we're doing this, we're doing this now," Spike set his teeth.

Angel stepped aside. As Spike walked out he repeated, "Just tell me, why?"

"Another time… Perhaps," Spike sad in a low voice without looking Angel in the eye.

…

With Spike being prepped by the medical team, Angel wandered into the hall to find Buffy waiting there.

"Hey, you're a mess," she said tenderly.

"Am I?" Angel had forgotten he was covered in demon blood. "Oh, right."

"How does it feel?"

"Kind of slimy and gross." Angel paused, confused. "Oh, you mean…" He rubbed his forehead. "Why is this happening? Now? I thought we were waiting until midday."

"Spike doesn't want to wait. But Giles says it's probably better this way."

"How's that?"

"If we wait until midday Spike will be weaker. The sooner we can do this, the better the chance of success."

"Right. Then why _were_ we going to wait?"

"Because if we do this now, it will be a slower, more painful death. Giles wanted to spare Spike unnecessary suffering."

Angel was still processing the situation when a nurse came out of the room and told them, "We're ready. Miss Summers I believe you wish to be present? Please, come in."

Angel squeezed Buffy's hand as she summoned all her courage and maturity and entered the hospital room. Angel, shut out, leaned helplessly against the wall in the corridor. He hoped with all his heart that the doctors would pull of Giles's plan. Whomever opened that door next, better have some good news for him, or he didn't know what he would do.

…

Spike saw the door open and a nervous looking Buffy stepped into the room. He watched as she glanced around at the impressive line-up of waiting medical staff, as well as all the monitors and life support equipment at the ready. Spike himself, stripped of his trademark black clothing, sat propped against spotless white pillows wearing nothing but a pale blue hospital gown, and covered with a thin white sheet. Buffy had never seen him look so vulnerable.

"Come to watch my big finale?" Spike asked dryly.

She attempted a smile, but the corners of her mouth quivered downwards and she abandoned the attempt. "You don't believe it's going to work?"

He pursed his lips and the fear in his eyes was palpable. "Do you?"

"I can't even…" Buffy couldn't continue.

"You don't have to stay," Spike told her in a low flat voice, not meeting her eyes.

Buffy stepped closer to the bed and grasped Spike's hand tightly in her own small hands. "I'm not leaving you, Spike," she swore. "I'm staying. End of story."

"Thank God," he said so quietly she wondered if she had imagined it. She felt him squeeze her hand.

She squeezed back firmly, locking their fingers together.

"The sun is up," Giles noted. "Shall I open the curtains?"

Spike swallowed. "Do it," Spike gritted his teeth.

The curtains were pulled and the soft morning light fell across their locked hands. Spike flinched at the brightness. "No flames this time," Spike commented and Buffy knew he was remembering the last time they had locked hands, as Spike had stood with the amulet's power radiating from him.

Buffy drew her gaze up from their hands. She gasped. It felt surreal to see Spike bathed in daylight. His skin appeared even paler, almost translucent. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut in pain, but said nothing.

As the light intensified Spike began shaking. At first it was an almost imperceptible tremble, then it became stronger, like intense shivering he could not control. "Oh God help me!" Spike pleaded suddenly. "How long is this gonna take? Where's a bloody stake when you need one? I don't think I can… arh!"

"Close the curtain!" Buffy panicked.

"Leave it!" Spike asserted through clenched teeth. "It's too late. Just hold me." The trembling turned to violent shaking. "Hold, me Buffy."

Buffy, horrified, held his shoulders down, while the violent shuddering wracked his body. Struggling to hold him down she climbed onto the bed. They locked eyes. She could see the demon light flickering in his eyes, and with each vibration his vampire face tried to emerge, his forehead changing slightly and his teeth becoming pointed. Suddenly, in full daylight, his face changed and he threw his head back as the familiar demon scream escaped him. It was a sound Buffy had heard every time she'd ever dusted a vampire. A chilling, high pitched scream that appeared to fade into another dimension as it died away, usually as the vampire's flesh form fell away to dust. In this case Buffy saw a part of Spike, like a super-imposed image, explode and fade away and she felt the body beneath her grip go limp. Then silence. She stared incredulous, at the pale lifeless form that remained beneath her on the bed.

Gloved hands pulled her away. Medical staff in blue gowns and caps rushed around the bed, shouting urgent orders, attaching monitors, respirators, someone pulled back the gown from Spikes chest, "stand back!" someone shouted as paddles appeared and they delivered the first electric pulse. Buffy backed away in horror. "Again!" she only half heard, "and again! We have a pulse, let's maintain it… adrenalin, stat!" Buffy ran from the room.

Angel caught her as she escaped. He had been waiting anxiously listening just outside the door. "What happened?" he asked urgently, grabbing Buffy.

"He's gone," Buffy told him tearfully.

"I need to go in Buffy. You've got to go back and close the blinds for me."

"I'm not going back in there," She shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

"But his body. Are they still trying to…"

"I think they got a pulse," Buffy told him. "I'm not sure."

"They did?" Angel brightened. "He's alive?"

"No," Buffy shook her head. "I mean it's not Spike, is it? How can it be Spike? I saw it. I saw him leave. He's gone. That thing, that body, it's not him. It can't be. The Spike I knew, the vampire, he's gone!"

"Buffy, _please_ go back and close the curtains. I _need_ to go in."

"I can't, Angel," Buffy pushed him away and fled.


	10. Sensitive

Angel had never felt so lonely in all his long life. And that was saying something. Angel sighed and glanced at the clock on his desk. Three forty-five. Almost visiting hours. He picked up his phone and had his secretary on the line. "I'm heading out," he told her. "Probably won't be back until late."

"No worries, Angel," she said, "Shall I reschedule your 4:30 appointment?"

"Oh, er… is that a problem?"

"Not at all. Enjoy your afternoon."

"Right. You too." Angel said awkwardly. With that he cleared his desk, shrugged on his jacket and grabbed his car keys.

He'd been busy at work lately. More than busy. His mission in transforming the evil law firm into a firm that represented and helped those in supernatural need was actually going incredibly well. He had made more progress in the last two months on that front that he had in the previous two years. Maybe it was because he had nothing left, no reason to compromise. He had fired any staff who were not performing their duties, or who were not completely behind the new mission statement. He had even renamed the firm 'Angel Incorporated'. But he had not got himself a new 'team'. He had good senior staff and he trusted them, but he preferred not to work too closely with them. He certainly did not open up to any of them. He had tried on occasion. But it just felt awkward. He got the feeling they liked the way things were. They liked to view him as their heroic, elusive boss. They didn't want to get close. So he left it at that.

Angel parked in the underground carpark as he always did and walked the familiar route up through the hospital basement, along the corridor, to the private ICU ward. The nurse on duty hardly glanced at him.

"How is he? Any change?" Angel asked.

"What do you think?" she replied. "You know we'd have called you if there was anything to say."

"Right," Angel sighed.

The loneliest times in his life before now had happened because he had wanted to be left alone. He had been lonely by choice. Either because he thought he deserved it or because he didn't trust himself to get close. But now? He talked to Giles when he could, but the former Watcher, now turned principal of the new 'Slayer Academy' in England, was usually either busy, distracted, unhelpful or all of the above. And Buffy? Angel had given up trying to get through to her after listening to her cheery recorded message one too many times. No doubt she was as busy as Giles with her new life, but he was pretty sure that was not the reason she wasn't taking his calls. She knew why he was calling. He missed Spike. And she didn't want to talk about it.

Angel went through to the private room and opened the door. Spike lay in the hospital bed as unconscious as he had been since that fateful day they had excised the demon from his body, and every day since. Angel pulled up the one chair in the room, sat down by the bed, and studied the former vampire. In the two months he'd lain in hospital his hair had grown. About an inch of brown roots now showed at the base of each bleached lock matching the brown lashes that rested on his pale cheeks. Angel listened to the way the beeping of the heart rate monitor quickened as he leaned close. For some reason that happened whenever Angel was in the room. The first time Angel had gone in to see him, just a little after Buffy had left, Angel had grabbed his hands and his heart rate had destabilised at that same moment. They had almost lost him. Angel feared it may have somehow been his fault. Since that occasion Angel had not talked to Spike, had never touched him, only crept into the room and sat silently by his side. He had not dared to do more. Until today. Anything was better than to see him lying there so still. Was it possible that Spike could somehow sense his presence, even when unconscious?

Angel reached out his hand and touched Spike's face, caressing his temple. The beeping monitor quickened, and Angel thought he saw Spike flinch.

"Spike?" Angel said out loud. "Can you hear me?"

Nothing. Maybe he had imagined it. He touched Spike's shoulder. The moment his fingers touched Spike he heard a sharp intake of breath. Looking up at Spike's face, he was shocked to see his eyes flicker open. "Angel?" Spike's voice was hardly a whisper.

"Yeah, it's me." Angel told him, almost in disbelief. "I've been so worried. That you wouldn't wake up. You made it, Spike." Angel reached out but Spike recoiled. Angel withdrew his hand. "Are you okay? Maybe I should get someone."

Spike looked around with heavy eyes. It seemed to take some effort for him. He glanced slowly from the bed to the monitors, and the drip in his arm. He seemed to be getting his bearings, remembering everything that had happened. "How long's it been?" he asked finally.

"Two months."

"That long, huh?" Spike looked down at his body, then with effort, lifted his arms and held them in front of him. "I feel like death warmed up," he commented dryly.

Angel gave a small grin at the apt description. "That's accurate, I guess."

"I'm not sure I can do this, Angel," Spike told him. "I feel dreadful. It's so noisy inside me, my whole body, every cell, and my head… I think I've made a terrible mistake. What am I doing to do?"

"Hey," Angel comforted. "You're doing really well. I mean look at you. Breathing away. Heart beating on its own, and all. I'm sure it'll get better, once you get used to it. We'll figure it out."

"We?" Spike looked up tentatively.

"Yeah. You're not alone. I'm here to help you, Spike," Angel told him.

Spike looked at him horrified. "You? Help me? _How?_ I'm _human_ now, Angel. What can you possible do for me? Teach me how to cook a balanced meal?"

Angel was at a loss for what to say. "Well I…"

"There's only _one_ thing you could do to help me, Angel."

"What's that?"

"Make me a vampire again. That's what you _want_ , isn't it?"

"What? That hadn't even crossed my mind," Angel denied. "Unless that's what _you_ want. Then, I guess maybe we can talk about it and…"

"Oh we _both_ know you don't give a fig what _I_ want!" Spike pulled himself up, clearly wishing he could walk out on Angel and slam the door. In fact it looked as though he was going to attempt just that.

"Spike, you need to calm down." Angel grabbed Spike gently by the shoulders, to prevent him from falling out of bed onto the floor. "You've been through a lot. It's understandable that you might be angry, or uncertain, or confused. But listen. I care about you. And I want to help you. Any way I can. I'm just… I'm just so glad to have you back."

"I know you are, Angel," Spike told him. "But seriously, you _have_ to take your hands off me."

"Why?" Angel asked confused.

Spike gasped for breath. "Because…" Suddenly Angel smelled fear and perceived Spike's heartbeat escalating out of control.

He let Spike go as medical staff came running. Angel was hastily ushered from the room. "Let us handle this," the doctor told Angel. "I think it's best if you leave. We'll call you later."

…

Angel gave up waiting for the hospital to call him and called them instead. When he final got someone on the line he was shocked by what they told him. "What do you mean he checked himself out?"

The doctor explained that once Spike had recovered from what seemed like a 'panic attack' he had been given the all clear and there was nothing to stop him from leaving the hospital. "But, why didn't you call me?" Angel asked exasperated.

"He asked us not to do so," the doctor explained.

Angel hung up. Where would Spike have gone? The obvious place to start was to go to his apartment so that was where Angel headed as soon as the sun had set.

…

Angel called Giles as soon as he got home only to get his answering service. Angel started to leave a message. "Hey Giles, it's Angel. I know you're busy, but I'd really appreciate if you could call back soon. I'm calling to tell you that Spike woke up and I'd really like to talk."

It was almost two weeks later when Giles finally called him back. Angel guessed he must have been busy because he sounded genuinely interested and slightly less distracted than usual. "Angel, did you say Spike woke up? That's quite amazing! What has it been? Nearly two months? How is he?"

"I'm not sure. I mean… well… he seemed kind of angry. At me. For some reason." Angel brightened. "Which is encouraging, I guess. Same old Spike. Always did blame me for everything wrong with his unlife." Angel paused. "And now his life, it seems."

"So, how did this happen. I mean, after all this time, he just… woke up?" Giles questioned.

"Well, I touched him. And he woke up," Angel explained awkwardly.

"Oh, I see. Like a fairy tale," Giles mused. "True love's kiss?"

"I didn't _kiss_ him Giles," Angel frowned. "I just… It's weird. His heart speeds up whenever I come near him. Even when he was unconscious."

"A physiological response? Intriguing."

"You think that's what it is? I don't know. He's afraid of me, Giles."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm a vampire Giles," Angel reminded him. "The smell of human fear is pretty distinctive. Tantalizing."

"Some humans have been shown to be hypersensitive to the presence of vampires. They display distinctive physiological responses similar to what you are describing."

"Like a sixth sense?" Angel asked.

"More like an allergy," Giles corrected. "It may be because Spike was a vampire himself that he has acquired this trait. If it is indeed a case of vampire hypersensitivity, Angel, it is not Spike's fault that he reacts this way to you. This must be a confusing experience for him. I suggest you try to give him some space. It may be best to keep your distance from him for the time being."

"Yeah, I don't think that's gonna be a problem," Angel admitted grimly.

"Why not?"

"He's checked himself out of the hospital nearly two weeks ago. I haven't seen him since."

"But you _do_ know where he is don't you, Angel?" Giles asked with concern.

"Oh, yeah, that's not the problem," Angel assured him. "I know exactly where he is. He's in his apartment. He just…" Angel tried to hide his frustration. "He just won't invite me in."


	11. Visiting

"I'm sorry to hear that Spike won't invite you in," Giles told Angel over the phone. "I know you must want to help him Angel, but it may be that you are not in the best position to do that."

"Then who _is_ going to help him Giles?" Angel said with frustration. "This is _Spike_ we're talking about, remember? It's not like he has great a network of supportive friends."

"I didn't realise he had _any_ friends."

"Exactly."

"What about Buffy? Is Spike willing to speak with her? How is Buffy, by the way? Is she enjoying LA?" Giles asked with interest.

Angel was confused. "I thought Buffy was in England with you?"

"She hasn't arrived yet?" Giles asked. "I assumed…"

"Giles, what are you talking about? I haven't spoken to Buffy in the last two months. She never returns my calls."

"Really? She left England on Thursday. I believe she was flying to LA. She mentioned something about taking you up on your offer to do some freelance slaying."

"Really? I guess I may have offered." Angel could not remember specifically, but then he had left her so many messages, at all times of the day and night. He may have made such an offer in an attempt to entice her to answer his calls. "But she never responded."

Giles sighed. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, really. I should warn you Angel, Buffy's been rather impulsive lately. I'd be worrying about her if I wasn't run off my feet here. I have this whole 'Academy' of slayers I need to worry about now. I know Buffy can look after herself. And I trust she will deal with whatever she's going through responsibly. It will be good for her to get away from the Academy for a bit. Do something on her own. She needs a break. I do hope she can help you with your Spike problem."

"Yeah," Angel tried not to get his hopes up. It would be good to see Buffy again. Maybe too good. In his current state of loneliness, he'd have to be careful.

"Keep me informed," Giles told him. "I'll try to do some research on human ability to sense vampires to send through to you. I'm sorry I can't offer more help. I'd fly over myself, but I fear I've already taken on more than I can handle here. Best of luck, Angel."

Angel had hardly put the phone down when he heard his office door pushed open and the sound of footsteps enter his office. Before he had time to react he found himself thrown deftly to the ground, flat on his back. A small but powerful figure straddled him, a stake clutched in her raised hand.

"Surprise," a very blonde Buffy quipped with an almost gleeful grin.

Angel was lost for words. How she had got past his secretary, and what on earth had she done with her hair? This was not how he'd pictured her arrival.

After an awkward several moments Buffy lowered her stake, pouting. "You don't seem happy to see me."

Angel winced. "Maybe I just don't appreciate being knocked off my feet and almost staked at the end of a busy day at the office. I'm tired, Buffy." He knew he probably sounded pathetic.

"Oh, I'm sorry. My bad. I wanted to surprise you," she sulked.

"I just got off the phone with Giles," Angel told her.

"Bugger. He's just always gotta spoil the party."

"You've been in England too long," Angel told her, slightly disturbed by her casual use of British slang. "Buffy, couldn't you have chosen a more friendly entrance?" Angel struggled half-heartedly, but Buffy still had him firmly pinned.

Buffy sighed and released her leg grip. "You liked it in my head," she told his.

"I did?" Angel asked manoeuvring awkwardly out from under Buffy's legs.

"Yeah. You were a lot... less broody. What's wrong?"

"Everything," Angel replied. "And Spike."

Buffy got up and took a step away at the mention of his name. "I didn't come here to talk about Spike!" She said his name like it was a curse.

"Please, Buffy. You have to go see him." Angel pulled himself up to a sitting position.

She turned her back to him. "I'm not going back to that hospital Angel. Do not ask me again unless you want me to walk straight out of here."

"You don't understand, Buffy. He's not in the hospital anymore. He woke up. He's living at his apartment."

Buffy froze. "For real?"

"I want you to go talk to him. I _need_ you to."

"Why?"

"I need to know he's okay. I've been trying to keep an eye on him but he won't see me. He won't invite me in."

"If he doesn't want to see you, what makes you think he'll want to see me?" She said without turning around. Her hands were clenched into tight fists.

"He always wants to see you, Buffy," Angel whispered.

Buffy turned around and Angel saw the tears down her cheeks. "I miss him Angel. I miss him so much! But to see him again... or what's left of him. It won't help. I'll only miss him more. I can't do it."

Angel stared up at her, from her boots all the way to her wavy bleached locks. "Or maybe you need to see him again," he told her. "I mean look at you Buffy! The way you're dressed? Don't try to tell me that's a coincidence."

"Huh?" Buffy looked down at her outfit.

"Come on, Buffy. You know what I mean. The jeans, the red shirt, the bleached hair? The _boots_? I've never seen you wear Doc Martens before. I'm pretty sure they haven't been in fashion for a while."

"Hey, they're really comfortable, okay?" Buffy defended. "Practical too. Wanna see me kick your ass in them?"

"I'm just saying," Angel told her gently, getting to his feet. She really didn't seem to have consciously realised that what she had chosen to wear was almost exactly Spike's trademark outfit. "You're here, Buffy. For a reason. You need to see him. _I_ need you to see him. Please." He stepped towards her comfortingly.

Buffy dropped her stake and fell into Angel's arms. "Okay. I'll go see him. Just this one time. For you."

…

Buffy sighed. She had got herself all psyched up to visit Spike at his apartment, but he was not even answering the door. Assuming this was the right door. Buffy had never been to his LA apartment before and the streets in this area were not exactly clearly labelled. She didn't particularly want to call Angel and ask for better directions. In fact she thought she would rather resort to violence. Buffy was about to kick the door down when she heard the lock click and a young man opened the door. He was ordinary looking, dressed dark grey pants and vest and white shirt with sleeves rolled up. Curls of light brown hair tumbled over his forehead above his dark-rimmed glasses. An engraved name tag pinned to his vest read 'William'.

She frowned with disapproval as the man looked her up and down. She was still dressed in her black jeans, boots, and a black leather jacket over her red shirt. Her almost white blonde hair was straying loose from the rough ponytail she'd tied it in. She shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry," Buffy said. "I must have the wrong apartment."

"Buffy?" the man asked, tilting his head. There was something startlingly familiar in his voice that hit her with a jolt.

Buffy looked up at him sharply. He became self-conscious under her gaze. His fingers fumbled through soft curls of hair. It wasn't until he carefully removed his glasses that Buffy recognised him.

"Oh my good god!" Buffy clapped her hands to her mouth. "Spike?"

"I wondered when you might stop by," he spoke quietly. "Care to come inside?"

Buffy stepped inside and followed him through to the kitchen and living area. The smell of cooking filled the room. Suddenly a pot on the stove started overflowing. "Sorry," the man rushed to fix the situation. "Just got home from work. Trying to make dinner. Trying being the key word in that… "

It felt so surreal. She sat on the arm of the couch and waited until the man came to join her, wiping his hands on a tea towel, and leaning against the armchair across from her. "Still getting the hang of this cooking gig. Haven't spent much time in a kitchen since… well, ever…"

Buffy looked around, at a loss for what to say. Finally she managed to ask, "So how's life?"

He looked at her sharply, then lowered his gaze with an amused exhalation. "My goodness. I thought we'd start with small talk," he smiled shyly. "But you jump in with the big question."

"Huh? Oh my god, you sound ridiculous!" Buffy couldn't help but laugh out loud. It was too overwhelming.

"Excuse me?" he sounded hurt and surprised.

"I'm sorry. I'm just… in shock. Okay, you are _not_ Spike!" Buffy chortled, incredulous. "What is with the accent? And… have you been taking style tips from Giles's grandmother?"

"You've met Giles's grand… Oh, a joke. Of course," he swallowed nervously, before continuing tentatively. "Buffy, I… I know I seem different to you. I mean I _am_ different, in no small way. It feels very... well… different doesn't begin to express how… precarious, maybe, or… I can't find the right word. You see, I'm still just trying to… to figure out…"

"Spike, what the hell _happened_ to you?" Buffy burst out.

He gritted his teeth. "You should know! You were _there_ , remember? Oh, until you weren't!" his voice rose. "I mean," he shut his eyes momentarily to regain his composure, and spoke quietly again, "you know exactly what happened, Buffy."

"Right. I do. And it is just like I knew it would be. You're not Spike at all. Spike's gone. I felt it. When the demon left your body, Spike was gone. You're not him. That's _painfully_ obvious. Spike would never… ever..." She looked him up and down dismissively. "You're more different from Spike than I could _possibly_ have imagined. Which is good. Makes it easier to accept. The Spike I cared about… is never coming back. He's dead." Buffy faced him honestly. "You look a little familiar, like someone I used to know. But I really don't know you, do I?" She looked into his eyes.

He held her gaze for as long as he could bear, then looked down. "It seems not." The sadness in his voice was lost on Buffy. He looked down blinking as he took out his glasses and put them back on.

Buffy shrugged casually. "You're nothing to me," she read him nametag, "William."

He didn't look up. He seemed to be frowning very intently at the carpet.

She took a determined breath. "I'm moving on with my life."

He looked up. "As am I," he said with resolve, standing up straighter and crossing his arms. "Although, I had hoped it wouldn't work, you know."

"What?"

"Reviving me. As a human. I was counting on it not working. I took a gamble. And I bloody lost, didn't I? And now here I am. Right where I hoped I'd _never_ be…" He trailed off pensively. After a moment he got to his feet abruptly. "I think you're right, Buffy. About moving on. Which is why I don't want anything to do with vampires, or demons anymore." He paused. "Or slayers."

Buffy smiled ruefully. "Fine, I can take a hint. I've outstayed my welcome." All of a sudden she just wanted to get away. Buffy collected her bag and jacket. He walked her to the door. "Wait," she swung around. "What should I tell Angel?"

"Excuse me?" he paled visibly.

"Angel," Buffy told him. "Angel asked me to visit you. That's why I'm here. Because you won't answer his calls or invite him in." When he didn't appear to react, Buffy rolled her eyes. "Come on, you remember him. Tall, handsome, broody type of guy. You guys were like best friends for a long time… or kind of enemies… or both… and maybe… I don't want to know what else…"

"Angel's a vampire."

"So… you do remember him." Buffy had been joking, but was it possible he did not clearly remember his life as Spike? She didn't know. Didn't want to find out. She just wanted to leave this weird and kind of dorky guy to his new boring life and go back to Angel. She was hoping they could go out and do some slaying later.

"I told you, I don't associate with demons – especially not vampires."

"Look, I gotta tell him something. I'd never had come here unless Angel…"

He hardened. "Please leave!"

Something caught in his voice that struck Buffy with intense familiarity. She studied him again. Was there more of her Spike left inside him that she was giving credit for? Buffy lingered on the doorstep.

"What?" he asked.

She turned to him, softening. "Seems like every time we meet, it's goodbye."

"I thought you didn't know me," he said coldly.

Buffy gave up. "Fine. Until next time, then. Take care." She said offhandedly and turned on her heel.

As Buffy walked away he shouted after her angrily. "Hey Buffy! You want a message for Angel? Tell the wanker to stop bloody stalking me! How blind does the git think I am? Also, I saw that Tava demon follow me home!"

"Spike?" Buffy turned, but the door had been slammed shut.

After bolting the door, Spike sank to the floor and cried his eyes out. He was one messed up human and he knew it. As much as he tried to shut the demons out, he knew they'd be coming for him. It was only a matter of time.


	12. Patrol

"Are you there, Angel?" Buffy asked, tucking a couple of stakes into her jacket as she entered his office. She was eager to go out patrolling for vampires. It had been a long time since she had been free to patrol whenever she wanted. The new slayers didn't appreciate her 'showing off' or 'stepping on their turf'. She was supposed to sit on the sidelines now and give them a chance to show their stuff and then give them praise and encouragement. Until the next apocalypse, and then they'd probably be begging for her help. There was no apocalypse on the horizon just now. But she was dying for a good slay just to get her blood pumping.

"How'd it go?" Angel asked, still picking out his weapons of choice from the extensive collection he kept in his office.

"Can we go already?" Buffy asked. "I can talk and stake simultaneously. Actually I prefer it. I'm good at multitasking."

Once they were outside they headed towards the area Angel suggested would be a good bet to find at least a few vampires. There were lots of dark alleys, side streets and dead ends.

"So, don't hold me in suspense," Angel prodded, following Buffy into the third dead end alley with still no vampire sightings. "How was Spike?"

"Great!" Buffy told him. "If you're referring to the curly haired dweeb who answered the door at that address you gave me. He has some kind of a job that involves wearing a name tag and he seems to enjoy getting domestic in the kitchen."

"He works in a book shop, I know," Angel revealed. "And being human now, of course he has to eat. What I really want to know is…"

"He still doesn't want to see you, Angel."

Angel was crestfallen. "Buffy, how could you screw this up? I was counting on you. You're just gonna have to go back and talk to Spike again."

Buffy turned on him. They'd reached another dead end anyway. "Angel, the man I met in Spike's apartment - that was _not_ Spike. I'm telling you Angel, you need to move on. You need to accept that Spike's _gone_."

"How can you say that?" Angel truly did not understand Buffy's attitude. "I mean he's been through a lot. He's changed. But he's still here. He's still Spike."

Buffy laughed. "I don't think so."

"How can you laugh about this?"

"It was just so funny," Buffy couldn't help herself. "He was wearing these glasses… and talking funny. He was such a dork! Spike would never…"

"God, Buffy. You think you know him so well?" Angel was surprised how offended he felt at Buffy's attitude.

"I'll tell you what I know, Angel." Buffy became serious and sad. "Spike is gone. I was the one _there_ , remember? In that hospital room. I saw him die. I saw that look of horror. Heard that scream vanish into hell, same as I have a million times, every vampire I've ever slain. Spike was a vampire. And that vampire is gone."

"You think it's that simple?"

"Isn't it?" Buffy challenged him.

"I don't think so," Angel countered. He was sometimes surprised by how easily Buffy could reduce complexities down to black and white. "I think you have your own perspective, Buffy. Which is valid but… it's kind of rash to assume it's the truth, don't you think?"

"Well, what's your perspective, Angel?" Buffy asked, hands on hips.

Angel leaned against the damp bricks of the alley wall and tried to piece his thoughts together. "I miss him. I want to help him. It doesn't matter to me if he's changed a little… or a lot. It wouldn't be the first time. I've known him a lot longer than you. Whatever, whoever he's become, he's still himself. Spike or William or whatever you want to call him. Besides, he's human and he has a soul, remember, Buffy. He needs help. I want to help him. I want to be there." Angel swallowed, surprised at the depth of the feelings he'd revealed, and gazed at Buffy, waiting for her reaction.

Buffy shrugged. "Yeah, well, whoever this new 'William' is, it's pretty clear he doesn't want your help, Angel. He just wants to be a normal guy, which is all he is now. He's so normal it's embarrassing. You want to help him? Then maybe you should do what he asks, and stay away. Stop _stalking_ him. God, I know what it's like being stalked by a vampire and I'm pretty sure it's not what he needs. He's probably right not to want to see either of us right now."

"Maybe," Angel conceded grudgingly. "I just… really miss him, you know?"

Bufy nodded. "I know."

Angel considered. "But maybe you're right. Maybe he's better off without me. He should have the chance to live a normal life, rather than skulking around in the dark every night with vampires and demons."

"I don't mind a bit of skulking," Buffy said, still listening for the slightest tell-tale sounds in the alley. "Preferably with more vamps and demons than this. I though you said we'd be sure to find some here?"

"It's funny that Spike said he never wanted to be human," Angel mused to himself. "Claimed he hated it the first time around. Insisted he didn't want to go there again. But I don't know… Spike was always such a weird vampire, you know? He had all these human quirks what with the smoking and the drinking, even eating human food. And he would _talk_ to them, you know?"

"Who?" Buffy was only half listening to Angel as she trained her ear for any approaching sounds of vampires to slay.

"People. He's just go up and talk to them. Like he was still one of them. Even back in the day, when we were both evil. Just go and start a conversation, like it was a normal thing for a vampire to do. Even when he had no intention of feeding off of them or torturing them. Or course it often ended in a fight, cos they'd get annoyed. He always did bring that out in people. And then he's get mad and they'd end up dead. But why'd he go talk to them in the first place? It was like he still cared what humans thought of him, in a way. I always found that weird. Like remember that time I found him hanging out with your mom drinking hot chocolate and whining about Dru?"

"Good times," Buffy said dryly, not feeling particularly nostalgic. Where were all the vampires in this town? The first time in a long time that she could just go out and slay vamps without all the other slayers squabbling over who's 'turn' it was, and she couldn't find a single one! Other than Angel of course, who was still moping dejectedly.

"Yeah. He was one twisted fucked up vampire that's for sure. God I miss him." Angel ran his hands through his hair and held his head in his hands.

Buffy sighed and went to stand by his side and comfort him. She knew she was cutting herself off emotionally at the moment. She just didn't feel like bonding with Angel over their shared feelings of loss. That would not be wise. "Hey, you need someone else to stalk?" she tried jokingly. "I haven't had a good stalker recently. Maybe that's what my life is lacking."

Angel smiled, appreciatively at Buffy's attempt to cheer him up. But then he froze. "Wait. Buffy, how did Spike know I was stalking him? I've kept my distance. I've been very discrete."

Buffy shrugged. "He said a Tava demon followed him home the other day."

"He said what? Oh shit. Oh shit!" Angel became agitated. "This is bad. Very bad."

"What? Why? What's a Tava demon?"

"Clients of Wolfram and Hart."

"Are they evil?" Buffy asked.

"About as evil as they come."

"Great! So we can kill them!"

"I think we might have to," Angel paled. "There's a ritual sacrifice tomorrow night. A representative from Wolfram and Hart was meant to go. It was gonna be Spike before he… I don't remember sending them any change of plan… I need to get back to the office and try to sort this out before…" Angel turned and started walking quickly out of the alley.

"Before what?" Buffy ran to catch up.

"Before they come for Spike. And if they find out he's human, he won't just be officiating the ritual sacrifice – he'll be part of it."


	13. Break

The next morning Buffy found herself stepping out of the dark little pub on the street corner and walking down the street, past a hipster cafe, a laundromat, a tattoo parlour, another café… Angel had talked her into going to find Spike at the second-hand book shop he apparently worked at now. It was up to Buffy to convince Spike to meet with Angel and plan how they would deal with the Tava demons' ritual tonight. Buffy glanced into the next shop window. No sign. But books. Lots of books. This must be the place. She entered and the door chime jingled. It was a fairly dilapidated store, filled with musty old books, some on antique bookcases, and others on makeshift shelves.

"Hello?" Buffy called, navigating around one such shelf of precariously placed books. She heard a rustle, a clatter and a thump, but when she turned to approach the small counter towards the back of the store, she found it curiously empty.

"Hello!" she called again.

An older man's face appeared from a tiny cluttered office nook, way up the back behind the counter, as he leaned back in an ancient armchair. He looked so much a part of the place that Buffy surmised he must be the bookshop owner. He was reading a volume of Shakespeare and as he looked at her over his glasses Buffy couldn't help but be reminded of Geoffrey Rush as a pirate. "What do you think you're _doing_?" he hissed, but he didn't seem to be looking her, rather at something below the counter in front of him, than she could not see.

"I'm just looking…" Buffy looked around, unsure how to proceed. "For Spike. I want to borrow Spike."

The man looked at her and scoffed. "Borrow? Spike Milligan? This is not a lending library, Missy. You got cash?"

"What? Oh… no, you misunderstood. William. I need to talk to William. I was told he… works here?"

The man pursed his lips tensely. "Not for much longer if he plans to make a habit of evading customers. Something tells me he doesn't want to see you."

"Oh, I'm not a customer," Buffy assured him. "Books are not really my thing. Well, not these books. I would never have come here. Didn't know this place existed, except… it's kind of a matter of…" Buffy paused. "A matter of life or death."

"Who's life? Who's death?" the older man quizzed, putting down his book.

"Damn it," a muffled voice swore. Suddenly a mop of brown curls appeared from behind the counter as Spike got clumsily to his feet. "Mine, I suppose."

"There you are," Buffy looked him up and down. He looked just as un-Spike-like as the night before, and she found it just as hard to comprehend that this man she wouldn't glance at twice – or even once – in the street was all that was left of that distinctive and unforgettable vampire she had known for so many years. She had fought him, she had hated and resented him. She had used him, relied on him, and in the end had come to trust and even care about him. But now? She hardly recognised Spike in this man. It made her so sad. She almost couldn't bear it. She swallowed her feelings and faced him, remembering that Angel had asked her to be kind. "Were you… hiding from me?"

"What's this about Buffy? You know I don't want to see you," Spike said curtly, only glancing at her for a moment before looking down again.

"Some unfinished business. I know you resigned from… from your previous place of employment," Buffy said out loud. "But there's one little job you still need to complete." She leaned in and whispered. "Tava demon ritual. Tonight. Does that ring a bell?"

"Oh, god," Spike closed his eyes for a moment. "I should've known I could trust Angel to fuck things up for me as usual!"

"We need to sort this out right away. Angel's waiting at the pub on the corner," Buffy explained. They really had no time to waste. She reached for the sleeve of his white shirt. "Let's go."

"I can't just leave, Buffy," he said angrily, pulling away. "I'm at work here. Can't just take off whenever I want. Gotta earn a living now, you know."

"Spike, your life is at stake!"

"He's scary," Spike explained, refering to his boss.

Buffy rolled her eyes. She turned to the older man. "Hey Mister Shopkeeper, I need to borrow your…" Buffy looked Spike up and down, "your little book worm here. Shouldn't take long."

"It's fine. Take a break, William," the older man shrugged. "Business is quiet today and the filing can wait. You can make up the time on Friday. Besides, sounds important." He smirked. "Go sort things out with your hot sexy former boss. Take your time. Wouldn't want to rush you."

"You think I'm his ex-boss?" Buffy asked. "Do I seem bossy? Wait, you think I'm hot?"

Spike raised an eyebrow at Buffy's outfit.

"Oh, right," she glanced down at her tight jeans and tight red shirt. "I guess some people might think that way." Buffy rolled her eyes. "I'm not his ex-boss. Angel's waiting at the pub. I'm his ex… his ex…" Buffy stammered.

"The man sniggered. "She's a bit much for you, William. I can see why you wanted out."

"What kind of job do you think…" Buffy started, but Spike grabbed her arm.

"I won't be gone long," Spike said between clenched teeth, feeling his cheeks getting hot. "I bloody hope not."

"Come by any time, Miss! Just buy a book next time!" the bookshop owner called out after them as Spike pushed the door open and he and Buffy stepped out onto the street leaving the door chimes ringing.

"Your boss is kinda creepy," Buffy said.

"You don't think he could be a demon do you?"

"Nah," Buffy shook her head. "Just a creep of the old man variety."

"Right, well, let's get this over with." Spike turned and strode purposefully down the pavement.

Spike opened the pub door for Buffy then followed her inside. "So where's our undead hero? Out back? Somewhere away from the windows?" Spike asked.

Buffy nodded and led him past the bar, through to the next room. It was dank and smelled of stale smoke and beer. When they came in Angel looked up from where he was seated on a stool at the end of a bench. "Spike!" he said eagerly, resisting the urge to get up. He did not want to startle Spike more than necessary.

Spike stopped in his tracks. He warily crossed his arms around himself and gingerly took a few tentative steps into the room, keeping Buffy between himself and Angel. "Angel," he sneered. "Fancy finding you here. Skulking in the dark as usual? Never too far from the stink of the sewers." His bitter tone was every bit the old Spike, all bravado, but it was a front. And Angel could sense his fear. It hung on the air, as unmistakable, as provocative, to a vampire as the taste of blood.

"Sorry to drag you here. On such a nice day," Angel quietly offered a heartfelt apology, keeping himself in check. "I like your hair. Looks nice. Natural. And the whole hipster look, with the glasses… kinda works. Who'd have thought?" Angel paused, but Spike said nothing. "It's really good to see you, Spike." Angel told him sincerely.

"Sorry, can't say the same to you," Spike told him, gulping anxiously. Buffy had stepped aside, so he stepped behind her again, finding himself against the wall.

"What are you doing?" Buffy turned to him. "Are you _hiding_ behind me? From _Angel_? Are you…"

"He's afraid of me," Angel explained.

"No, I'm not!" Spike denied quickly. "Not exactly."

"It's okay Spike, no point denying it. You know I can smell you. But it's not your fault. Giles says it shows that you're really sensitive…"

"Giles says _what_?" Spike felt humiliated to realise Angel had been talking about him with Giles. "And what the hell does _he_ know about me?"

"He thinks you might be hyper-sensitive. To vampires," Angel told him. "It's a condition."

"Does he now?" Spike's voice rose. "Or maybe I have good reason to be... to be…" Spike gasped, trying not to have a panic attack.

"Is he okay?" Buffy asked.

"Spike, you need to calm down." Angel told him trying very hard to remain calm himself and not to get up or make any sudden moves. "This is important. We need to work out what to do about the Tava demons."

Spike leaned against the far wall. He ran his hands through his unruly hair and took a deep breath. "Right. Right. Because you fucked up! I knew that sooner or later you'd screw things for me… Didn't take long did it, Angel?"

"I'm so sorry," Angel told him. "I don't know how this happened. I've been so busy. It slipped my mind. The paperwork went missing. It must have been on your desk when Buffy ripped up all those contracts."

"You're blaming me now?" Buffy turned to Angel.

"I'm not blaming anyone. This isn't a disaster… yet. At least we realised in time, right? I mean we still have _some_ time."

"Oh God," Spike looked like he was going to cry.

"I'm really sorry about this Spike. I'll figure something out," Angel promised.

"If we all put our heads together, we'll come up with something. We just need to make it fast," Buffy said taking a seat next to Angel and pulling up another stool for Spike, but Spike shook his head and stayed leaning against the wall close to the exit. "Any ideas?" Buffy turned to Angel.

"I guess I could just kill them all," Angel shrugged.

Spike gave him a hard stare. "Oh please, Angel. _All_ of them?"

"Buffy can help." Angel pointed out.

"Oh, I'm more than keen. But surely we don't have to kill all of them. Obviously we have to kill the Tava demon who saw Spike in the daylight. The demon who knows he's human now. He's got to go down. But the others are optional, right?"

"Buffy," Angel tried to explain, "the problem is that Tava demons do this thing where they… how would you explain it… it's like if one of them sees something, then all the other members of the clan see it too."

"The clan has a shared memory," Spike explained to Buffy. "At least they do in the days leading up to the ritual. Some kind of pre-ritual bonding experience. That's why we'd have to kill them all."

"How many is all?" Buffy was a little hesitant to ask.

"One hundred and fifty two sworn members – there could be more, but those are the numbers on our contract."

"Wait," Buffy was confused. "William, you remember everything from…"

"The contract?" Spike asked. "Not word for word. There was a lot of fine print."

"No, I mean your life as a vampire. When you were Spike. Do you remember it all clearly?"

"Er yeah. Of course. I don't have a demon inside me anymore, but I've still got a _brain_ , Buffy. Last time I checked. Oh you mean because I'm a different _person_ now," he said in angry mockery. "You think I'm not your Spike anymore? I'm a stranger to you? Buffy, just think of me as a stranger who looks like Spike and also has all of Spike's memories. And, you know, his soul, and everything too. And now a beating heart. But you don't care about any of that, do you? Truth is, Buffy, it was the demon inside me you felt connected to. That dark, violent, dangerous part of me. That's why you can't stand to look at me anymore. The only part of me you cared for is gone. I'm nothing without it. Not to you."

Buffy was wide-eyed in horror at his interpretation. "Is that what you think?"

"Tell me it isn't true." He said quietly.

Buffy struggled with her emotions "I'd hate to think that was true," she swore with passion. "That I could be so… I just… God, I just feel like I don't know who you are anymore!"

"And you think I do?" Spike held Buffy's gaze until Angel interrupted.

"So we can't kill them all," Angel got them back to business. "What are we going to do? Spike is the only one who can officiate the ritual. It's locked in. The spells are cast. They're going to come for him."

Spike cleared his throat. "Let them take me. I know what I have to do," he told them.

"Spike, you're human. It'll kill you. The moment you touch that sacred staff…"

"No. It won't kill me until the ritual sacrifice is complete. Until the ritual ends."

"Same difference. Once it's started, it can't be stopped, Spike!" Angel reminded him. "Except by the Tava Demon Lord."

"Oh, well then we'll have to explain things to him and apologise," Spike said simply. "If we ask politely, I'm sure he will be happy to cancel the sacrifice."

"That's your plan?" Angel asked. "Seriously? Can I side with you Buffy? I don't think I wanna know this moron either. I don't think he has a brain after all." Angel elbowed her, but Buffy was still reeling from Spike's harsh judgement of her and struggling to pay attention to the current conversation.

Spike clenched his teeth in frustration. "They think I'm human, right? I've already been cast as part of the sacrifice, right? We need to convince them that they are wrong. That I'm still a vampire. They won't want demon blood tainting their pure sacrifice. The only option will be to cancel. That way we save my life, plus the other sacrifices."

"How are you gonna convince them you're a vampire?" Angel asked. "Put on a 'Spike costume'?"

"It will work," Spike said annoyed that Angel was so sceptical. "If you stick to my plan. Back me up. We're lucky the Tava are not overly intelligent. Of course when one hundred and fifty odd Tava demons realise they can't perform their precious sacrifices, things may get violent…"

"You can count on it," Angel assured. "Buffy and I will do our best to keep you out of the thick of it. Do you really think we can pull this off, Spike?"

"Do we have a choice?"

"Okay. The ritual begins at 10pm. Where should we meet?" Angel asked.

"At my apartment. Sunset," Spike decided.

"I'll need an invite," Angel pointed out.

"Fine," Spike glared. "And I'll need my coat. Do you have it? I think I left it at the hospital."

Angel nodded. He had Spike's leather duster alright. He had kept it safe in his closet, taking it out to sniff occasionally over the last few weeks, but Spike didn't need to know about the sniffing.

Spike looked at his watch. "I need to get back to work. Angel, email me the contract. I'll look over it and work out the details. I'll see you at sunset. I'll be ready then." With that Spike disappeared through the doorway and left the bar.

"Okay, this has got to be the most foolish plan." Angel shook his head. "What do you think Buffy?"

"I think I'm the fool," Buffy confessed, and Angel turned to her and noticed the tears that streaked her face.


	14. Preparation

Buffy and Angel knocked on Spike's door an hour earlier than normal sunset. The weather had turned stormy that afternoon and with the sunlight gone Angel was impatient to get there and check that Spike had their plan all sorted out.

"Maybe he's not home yet?" Buffy asked.

Angel was about to knock again when Spike unbolted and opened the door for them. He had a towel over his head. "You're early. I said come at sunset. I'm not ready." He was still in his work clothes, and was still wearing his glasses, but had a towel around his shoulders and was drying his head with a second towel. "Oh," he stopped, realising why Angel had not entered. "Come in, Angel."

Angel entered and Buffy followed.

Spike pulled the towel away from his head and grinned. "Never done that before. Inviting a vampire in."

"Thanks blondie," Angel said ruffling Spike's newly bleached hair. "Means a lot to me."

"Hey, no touching!" Spike reminded him, "Tryin' to keep it together here," although he didn't seem nearly as anxious in Angel's presence as he had earlier. "But does it… does it look okay?"

They both looked at Spike. Buffy's feelings welled up inside at the sight of his platinum head. It was a little piece of her familiar Spike that she had thought was gone forever.

"I had to wash it off sooner than I wanted. It was burning my head," Spike explained. "Never had to worry much about that as a vampire. Holy water, sure, but peroxide? Not so much with the burning. At least I can look in the mirror now. That's a plus."

"The colour's good," Angel told him. "You need more product."

"I told you I'm not finished yet," Spike retorted. "But I've prepared this." He rifled through his work satchel and took out a several folded sheets of paper.

Buffy grabbed the sheets. "What is this?" she looked at the notes written in flowing cursive lettering – she'd always found it strange that Spike had such beautiful handwriting. "Is this a script? You've written yourself a script?"

"I don't want to screw this up," Spike explained.

"Can I read it?" Buffy jumped onto the sofa again and got comfy as Spike handed his script to her. "Wow, this is detailed. You've put a lot of work in. There's curses and everything in here. It sounds just like the old Spike!"

"Yeah. I really managed to get inside his head," Spike was sarcastic. Buffy caught his eye and fell silent, remembering the things he'd said to her earlier.

"Spike," Angel got his attention from across the room. Spike seemed okay, almost cheery even, but he thought it was best he didn't get too close. "I can't tell you how bad I feel about letting this happen. If your plan doesn't work, it's not your fault, okay? If I have to, I _will_ kill every last one of those demons. I mean it. There's no way I'm letting you get hurt over this."

"That's sweet, Angel. Blood and mayhem. Just what I want. But it won't come to that. I know I can do this. I don't want to, but I can. There's just one other thing I need. Did you bring my coat?"

"Yeah, here you go." Angel threw the bundle to him.

"Thanks," Spike fumbled with it. "I'll be back shortly. Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't make yourself too comfortable. Just because I invited you in doesn't mean you should make yourself at home." He disappeared into the bathroom.

"This whole plan is ridiculous. I can't believe he penned a script. Let me see that."

Buffy handed it to Angel. "It's not bad. Sounds just like Spike. But I don't see that dorky little William pulling off the role, and the happily-ever-after ending… I'm not feeling it. I don't think it's believable."

"Not bad," Angel laughed as he read Spike's witty dialogue. "But how come I don't get more than two lines?"

They heard the bathroom door open and the figure of Spike walked carefully into the room. He was wearing his old clothes, the black jeans and shirt, the boots, and shrugging his trademark coat into place.

Buffy clapped her hand over her mouth. She was speechless. It was a sight she had never expected to see again.

Angel walked a little closer and studied his appearance. "Not bad. Not bad at all. How did you get the skin tone so… " Angel leaned closer examining Spike's neck. Spike had always been so pale as a vampire.

"Er… did I overdo the powder?" Spike asked, backing away from Angel warily.

"No. Just right. You look good. Really good. Boy it sure is crazy how much I've missed you." Angel grinned. He couldn't help himself. He grabbed Spike's shoulders in a quick embrace.

"Hey, hey! No touching! No touching! Please stop. Buffy make him stop!"

Buffy was still too shocked by the 'reappearance' of 'Spike' to reply.

"Sorry," Angel backed off. "Your heart's racing. I can feel it. Jeez, I wish you weren't so afraid of me. Isn't there something we can do about that?"

"Spike?" Buffy asked finally getting her voice back. "I feel like you're really back! Is it really you?" She came and stood in front of him, moving closer, enthralled.

Once he had taken several deep breaths to recover from Angel's assult, he straightened and looked at her curiously. "It's still me, Buffy. It's just clothes, hair dye, a bit of makeup… it's all superficial..."

"It's magic," Buffy gushed.

"It may be enough to fool Buffy, but not me, Spike. This'll never work. Not with that stench of human hanging off you. I'm guessing the Tava demons will pick up on it pretty fast."

"I've got it covered Angel. I told you I was prepared. In fact," Spike reached into the pocket of his coat. "Right where I left 'em, see?" He pulled out his lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He lit up and inhaled deeply, but then started coughing violently. "Oh that is disgusting! Living people actually smoke these things? Can't be healthy."

Angel grinned. "First cigarette as a human? Don't make a habit of it, okay?"

"This is your fault, Angel," Spike pointed accusingly at Angel. "You're a terrible influence on me. See what you've driven me to?" He sauntered over to the sofa, sat down and then reached into a shopping bag on the floor and pulled out a beer. He tried to open it. "Oh sodding hell," he swore. "I didn't realise I'd need a bottle opener."

Buffy took the bottle from him and opened it easily in her bare hands and handed it back. "You're welcome."

Spike grabbed the bottle angrily and took a long swig.

"So you're going to cover your scent with the delightful smell of beer and cigarettes?" Angel asked. "That's brilliant. This could actually work."

"Yeah, here's hoping. Let me go over my script again," Spike held his hand out and Angel handed the notes to him.

"Go through enough of those, and maybe you'll be drunk enough not to be afraid of me," Angel commented. "Spike, you know what I think? This is gonna be a fun night!" Angel grinned, giddy with excitement now he was confident things would turn out okay.

"I don't think getting drunk will pose much of a challenge," Spike told him putting the empty beer bottle down. "That's really gone to my head. Right, concentrate," Spike stared at his notes. "Bloody hell!" he panicked. "I can't even read this!"

"Why not?" Buffy asked, worried.

"It's okay. I just…" Spike fumbled, "forgot I need my glasses." He found them and put them on.

Buffy stared. Then laughed. The sight of Spike, in his leather coat and bleached hair wearing those glasses was absurd. It was warping her mind. She sat down next to him and turned his head to face her. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Let me see you," she said gently. She removed his glasses again, and simply stared into his face with amazement. "It's really you in there."

"Buffy honestly, who else would I be?" Spike asked not unkindly. "The question is, who are you? Lois Lane?" He took his glasses carefully from her hands. "Hey, I… I need those back."

"But you can see well _enough_ , can't you Spike?" Angel asked. "I mean you're not going to be walking into walls… or demons, are you?"

Spike looked up. "People wear those contact lens thingies, don't they? 'Spose I should've got some, but I didn't have time." He took a determined breath. "I'll be okay. Just need to read this over, then I'll put the specs away and we can head out for a spot of Shakespeare in the park – or rather the graveyard."


End file.
